


I'm as dread as you

by Piratess_of_Tortuga



Series: Stories of the Two Wolves [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Humor, Mating, Rough Sex, Skyholds surroundings are a bit different, Solas is just a disguise, and maybe some other minor landscape modifications, events of the Trespasser won't occur, so some chapters are nsfw, soulname, the beginning is canon - the rest not so much, you know Elfquest -right?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-11 04:23:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 31,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7028380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piratess_of_Tortuga/pseuds/Piratess_of_Tortuga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their relationship was doomed from the start and he knew it. But when he breaks up with her, he soon finds out that he faces the same decision again: whether to leave her as he should, or to remain by her side as his own heart so badly desires.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The grove

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything in English in a very long time so all kinds of grammatical slips are possible. I hope you enjoy the story nonetheless. :)

” _Solas..._ ” her voice came out with a shaking breath.

”Please, Vhenan”, he said taking a step back, creating distance between them.

”Solas... Don’t leave me”, she surpressed a tearful sob strangling its way out of her mouth, ”not now. _I love you_.”

Solas shook his head with such sadness on him that would have utterly crushed a lesser man.

”You have a rare and marvelous spirit. In another world−”, he started with a shaking voice, taking a step backwards again.

This time she tried to follow him, sadness and desperation shining from her forest green eyes.

”Why not this one?”

Solas raised his hands in a stopping motion.

”I can’t”, he struggled for words as he shook his head slowly, ” _I’m sorry_.”

 

And then, it was over.

 

Fen’lath’s eyes were moist with tears yet to be shed. Just moments before she was happy beyond any measure and now... She felt hollowness stirring and spreading inside her. Her heart was slowly turning to ice and stopping its beating. A short, unbelieving laugh espaced her as she lowered her head allowing a long red strand of hair fall from behind her left ear. Her unsually pale lips then pursed and the first tear managed its way across her cheek. Fen’lath raised her gaze a little to catch a glimpse of Solas’ back. She sniffed and took a deep breath.

” _No_ ”, her voice was fragile and barely audible but nonetheless, it was heard.

Solas let his walking pace drop a little, but it didn’t cause him to stop completely. He let his head turn so he could catch glimpse of what was happening behind his back. Fen’lath felt her eyesight blurring as the green started to fade away from her eyes as if cleansed away like some smudge.

” _No!_ ” her cry was a painful torn shriek that could shatter glass placed on its way.

                      Solas’ muscles tensed as he stopped and turned to face her, and a heartbroken look on his face suddenly turned into a slightly startled one. The reason for the latter expression was the fact that his vhenan had fallen on her knees, and as she laid her hands on the ground, her form started to change. Fingers started to vanish as two delicate hands began to look more like paws. Legs shortened and underwent a transformation nearly similar to what happened to the muscular yet thin arms. The scene went on and on: a tail appeared, and reddish fur started to grow allover the now canine-like body. Two pointed ears listened to the voices of the nearly silent grove, the air and the scents carried by it flowed deep into a long muzzle. The last sign of Fen’lath had dissappeared by the time two fierce ever-observant eyes stared at the elven man infront of them. Solas took a reserved stance and kept his gaze focused on the wolf that now snarled at him. Its eyes were like a pair of bright golden suns and, if looked more closely, traces of magic lingered around them as a shimmer. Quickly the newly appeared beast sprinted towards the entrance of the grove. Solas took a step back as the wolf ran past him, preparing to follow it, but it soon became clear that there was no need. The wolf stopped, circled around slowly, and then sat down. Solas wasn’t sure whether Fen’lath had any control over the creature she had become. Although she was a mage, Solas hadn’t known her to have any talent for shapeshifting at all. Something must have triggered this, something...

_Ah_.

Solas had been so taken away, and a bit amazed too, by the last few minutes that he had briefly forgotten what he had just done to Fen’lath, his own heart. Solas took two careful but assertive steps towards the red-furred wolf which held its tail high even while sitting. It signaled to him that despite his presence it wasn’t afraid but self-confident instead. Solas still wasn’t sure if Fen’lath was really present in the moment or not. He lowered himself to a crouching position to have his eyes on the same level with the ones of the wolf.

”Vhenan”, he called her with a calm and soft voice.

The wolf put back its ears briefly but then raised them alertly to their original position. Its nose moved slightly. Solas remained still before the beast as it was clearly evaluating him with all its senses. A red-furred muzzle moved slowly as the wolf smelled his hand and put back its ears again, only this time they stayed there. It had clearly smelled something that made it a bit nervous and, with a long threatening growl, it urged Solas to stay back.

_Ah, of course_ , the mage thought to himself _, of course a wolf would sense another_.

The red-furred beast, who was supposedly more wolf at the moment rather than Fen’lath, took a few steps backwards without losing an eye-contant with its assumed adversary. It almost seemed that the wolf was about to run from the situation, but instead it raised its ears and tail high. Its red fur fluffed and its back crouched. A low growl echoed in the grove once again. This time Solas was the one to take a cautious step back, although showing not even a hint of fear. His blue eyes never left the pair of golden ones. Perhaps he should show a sign of surrender, to yield before this now feroucious beast that was his own vhenan, but the wolf in him was too proud to do so. When Fen’lath finally attacked, teeth bared and growling, Solas made a quick move to evade her strike before vanishing into an obscure black smoke.

 

An unsually big pitchblack wolf focused its six red eyes on the red-furred one and snarled.

 

The sight of the Dread Wolf didn’t scare the smaller female. Perhaps she had ”seen” him through her senses already and that was why she attacked him – to fight an adversary off a potential territory. The female wanted the grove for herself and was ready to bleed for it. Solas wouldn’t hurt his vhenan for anything in the world and beyond, but the wolf had taken over and it was too proud not to answer an open challenge. The red wolf crouched her back and made slow considered steps towards the black one - growling. The female obviously knew she couldn’t challenge the male like she normally would: paws to shoulders, wrestling. This time was different, this time she had to make up something else. Six red eyes stared her adamantly, trying to waver her courage. The female made its decision as it took a few circling steps left, bared its white teeth, and surged forward trying to reach the males hindleg. But the Dread Wolf was not so easily fooled. Before the red-furred female reached her target, he made a swift move as he took the passing attacker by the neck and pressed it down. The female fought back, but couldn’t get up. If wolves were able to smile, the Dread Wolf’s face would have been covered by a wide grin.

_You may be brave, little one,_ a prideful thought passed the victors mind, _but I’m Fen’Harel._

 

It took time, but the Dread Wolf waited patiently for Fen’lath to give up. She struggled, desperately trying to stand up – in vain. It took nearly an hour for the her attemps to stop, for, as Fen’Harel had anticipated, she wasn’t willing to submit – not easily, at least. When he was sure that it was over, he slightly loosened his grip on his adversary before releasing her for good. When she didn’t move, he nudged her demandigly with his muzzle. The female looked at him with her golden eyes putting her ears behind humbly and rolled on her back. In that very moment, the Dread Wolf was utterly pleased with himself. Although the actual battle was extremely brief due to his opponents brashness, it had taken him quite some time to actually have her _give up_. Now the female was showing her belly to him, squirming like a playful cub. Fen’Harel stared her for a moment, standing at his full-height. The female whined, telling him she had already completely surrendered, and there wouldn’t be a need to fight any further. Hearing that, he stepped so that Fen’lath was left between his front legs, and settled with his right front paw on her. The Dread Wolf laid his head on the female as she licked the corners of his mouth. She whined again.

_Are you really showing affection for me, little one?_ Fen’Harel wondered as he nibbled one of Fen’laths ears, _perhaps you are, we shall see._

 

Time passed in the grove as the red female was held in the black males embrace. That time made the Dread Wolf feel like nothing bad had happened between them and everything was just as before they arrived to the grove. At the same time that feeling was sad, because it meant there would still be untold truths and the fact that he could never have her. The realisation made the Dread Wolfs gaze turn sorrowful and half-lidded. The female cocked her head as the male rose up and, taking a few steps away from her, and started to change form.

                      When an otherwise familiar character took the wolf’s place, it looked a bit different than before. To Fen’lath’s mind the difference would have been prominent, but to the wolf it didn’t matter so much because, although the figure might change, the person – or the wolf in this case – was always the same. Slender fingers touched the darkbrown dreadlocks on the back of the head that had once appeared to be shaved clean. A part of an upper jaw taken from a skull of a wolf adorned Fen’Harels forehead, tied fast to his hair. His freckled skin was now bright, smooth and young again. There was also something that the man the Inquisition knew would never wear: three golden earstuds on the upper side of both of his ears. The female wolf cocked her head again and made a sound that resembeled a short muffled howl, making a comment. A swirl of icy blue and bright gold smoothened in Fen’Harels eyes to a warm golden shade as he turned his head towards the red-furred beast.

”Don’t act surprised, vhenan”, he said with a warm tone in his throaty voice, ”there’s no point in hiding beneath a mask infront of you anymore.”

                      After a while Fen’Harel came to realize that _he_ was the surprised party at the moment. He had expected Fen’Lath to change back to her true form immediately after he had shown his true-self to her – she didn’t. The elvhen god grouched before the female wolf, and stared straight into her eyes. She looked at him thoughtfully at first but quickly averted her gaze as wolves do when avoiding a challenge. Fen’harel frowned, and his expression was a mix of confusion and sadness.

”Oh, vhenan”, he said with a low and somewhat quiet voice while gently stroking the soft fur on Fen’lath’s neck, ”what have you done to yourself?”

The wolfs sun-eyed gaze briefly touched his as she turned her head to lick his hand. Fen’Harel was baffled by the whole situation. Even he had never seen anything like this. It was as if his vhenan had... lost herself.

 

_What now?_  

Fen’Harel had pondered the same question for a while now. He hadn’t left the grove although he had been there for hours already. The wolf was also there, contently drinking fresh water from the pond. Though it seemed that Fen’lath wasn’t in control of the wolf she had become, the wolf on the other hand had chosen to follow Fen’harel. Maybe she had shown him affection instead of submission after all. The main question, however, was the one that Fen’Harel had viewed from every possible angle that came to his mind: what should he do about Fen’lath? He couldn’t possibly leave his vhenan like this. From the very moment he had fallen for her, he had been constantly torn between reason and desire, but now the battle was between his duty to the Elvhen and duty to his own heart. Warm golden eyes were nearly overcome with tears when they wandered to see the red-furred female who was still sating her thirst. He couldn’t bear even the mere thought of forsaking her. He was ready to do it when they arrived in the grove, however much it may hurt. It would have been for the best and still was. But now that he was facing the same question again... 

”I can’t”, the words that came out of the almost sculpture-like mouth were barely a whisper. 

                      So proud that Fen’harel otherwise was, now he seemed defeated. His shoulders slumped, and he covered his face with his rather pale hand, but only for a moment. He was the Dread Wolf after all, and he was the one who would refuse to _never_ hunt alone again. He collected his posture and a determined gleam glared in his golden orbs. Fen’lath was now calmly sitting infront of him. Fen’Harel crouched and caressed the female wolf’s fluffy cheeks affectionately, staring into another beautiful pair of golden feral eyes with his own. This time the wolf didn’t avoid his gaze, as if intently preparing to hear what he was about to say.

”The Evanuris corrupted themselves”, his voice was firm and full of thought, ”the nobles played along because it was beneficial to them. The slaves and ordinary workers were the ones to suffer, like your people do now in forests and cities alike. The world is quite the same, just the oppressors are different. I have a duty to my people that I cannot deny, but I cannot deny my heart either - not anymore. Ma sa’lath, you are the only thing that truly matters to me in this changed world.”

Fen’Harel scrathed the female behind her right ear. The wolf closed her eyes and made an expession that greatly resembled a smile. The elvhen god smiled too, and for the first time since wakening from uthenera, he let himself feel satisfactioningly selfish. Slowly he enfolded his arms around Fen’laths neck.

” Lama, ara las mir lath, Bellanaris”, he promised as he embraced her with closed eyes and added silently, ”ir tel’him.”  

_Fuck the Elvhen_.

”Ar lath ma, vhenan.”

_Fuck the whole Elvhenan_.        

 

**Elvish translations for this chapter:**

_vhenan:_ my heart

_ma sa’lath:_ my only love

_Lama, ara las mir lath. Bellanaris:_ From now on, my purpose is to love you. For Eternity

_ir tel’him:_ I’m me again

_ar lath ma:_ I love you


	2. Past the sea and to the mountains

The dawn had come, and the sun was slowly making its way to the sky. Dry leaves rustled on the ground as a pair of wolves traveled with speed through the Fereldan forests, avoiding the roads. A red-furred wolf followed a larger white wolf who had taken the lead. A pair of silvery eyes flashed like stars in the night sky as the male purposefully led the female west towards the Frostback Mountains. Fen’harel had chosen his other form as a wolf because it was less intimidating and startling than the other one. Oh, it would been a sight, of course, him travelling the land as the enormous six-eyed beast, a living nightmare to all who might catch even a glimpse of him **,** but he didn’t want to unnecessarily provoke any possible onlookers. The wolfpair had travelled quite a bit already as they had crossed the river that flowed between the Waking Sea and Lake Calenhad and were now running close the banks of the latter. They were searching for a place to rest as Fen’Harel had seen that the female was panting from exertion, and he had to admit that he could use some rest too.    

 

Perhaps it would be good for both of them to take a break - just a small one.  

 

When the Dread Wolf was sure that the road was far enough from the lakebank, he let his pace come to a halt **.** He glanced at Fen’lath who slowed her pace too and stopped when she stood beside him. She returned his gaze before turning her head towards the lake that bathed in the glory of the morning sun **.** The Dread Wolf stood guard and surveiled their surroundings while the female lied down at the bank after tasting the lakes fresh water. A loud quacking made her rise her head. The rushes waved when a couple of scared ducks emerged from their cover and took flight. The Dread Wolf eyed them too, now that he was sure that it was safe for them both to rest a bit. Suddenly he was surprised by the fact that Fen’lath had jumped on her paws and made bark-like voices towards the now airborne birds. Then she turned to him, laid the front of her body to the ground and wagged her tail. The white wolf cocked his head as the female stared at him making whine-mixed barks.

_Are you asking me to... play?_ he wondered.      

The female turned around a full circle and made similar voices at him again. The male stood tall at first, but then lowered himself and reached towards her with one of his front paws. The female pounced, made another circle as if chasing her tail, and barked again.

_Allright then, little one_ , the Dread Wolf complied and grinned in his mind, _let us play_.

                      The wolfpair frolicked near the lakebank and - without even fully acknowledging it themselves -  eventually ventured back into the woods. They were like a couple of cubs playing with each other: they stood on their hindlegs and wrestled, nibbed each other, and then ran again with the female daring the male to chase after her. Neither of them noticed when they reached the road that led south towards Redcliffe. The feel of crunching sand beneath his paws made the Dread Wolf flinch as the female still continued her play. She tried to nib his ear when he had already frozen on hearing a faint noise from the trees. The males ears pointed sharply upwards as he watched their surroundings with his silvery eyes. The female also apparently sensed that something was wrong, but she stared the other way than he did. Upon seeing a shadow moving in the direction of the same trees, the Dread Wolf took a step back. He should not have dropped his guard, he should not have...

_*swish*_

The male barked a warning as an arrow hit the ground, and both wolves sprinted into the woods again. Maybe the arrow was meant as a mere warning because it was clearly aimed to the very spot it hit, but if they had waited for the next one it may have been aimed elsewhere.

_Damn the dalish_ , The Dread Wolf cursed in his mind as he led Fen’lath to safety towards the Frostback Mountains, and never looked back.  

After the reminder that there might be trouble on their journey, the Dread Wolf was forced to make a choice. He was the one who knew where they were going, and the best way to help Fen'lath was to get her back to Skyhold. They had two reasonable choices: to take the longer route close to the ruins of Haven or the shorter one through Gherlen's Pass and then a rough road south past the gates of Orzammar. Both routes were dangerous, in a sense. The latter would probably have more travellers, and it would be considerably harder to travel unseen, but Haven... Oh, the familiar path through Haven would have a considerable risk to run into Venatori or worse: their leader. Perhaps it was his arrogance speaking, but Fen'Harel was very confident that, even without his orb, he would be a match to Corypheus and his forces. He wouldn't care if he got his orb back in one piece anymore. Fen'lath, on the other hand, could be an easy target to the ancient magister who wanted her dead, and Fen'harel wasn't sure he could protect his vhenan well enough in the midst of battle. That risk he wasn't ready to take because she was the one he wanted in one piece and alive. So, to him, the choice was obvious. There might be red lions, bears, and other wolves in addition to them, but no Venatori. There would be nothing the Dread Wolf, the Bringer of Nightmares, couldn't handle.

 

***

 

Gherlen's Pass was behind now, as well as the clearing before the mighty gates of Orzammar. Near the clearing, the wolfpair had been noticed by a dwarf or two, but fortunately no-one had cared to react to the sight. Perhaps the dwarves were not so touchy when it came to wolves as the dalish were. That was also one very good reason for which Fen'Harel had chosen to use this route. The Children of Stone, as he called them, weren't likely to attack unless someone attacked them first. In addition to that, they had no superstitions relating to him. So a wolf, even if it might look somewhat different than wolves normally did, shouldn’t draw any additional or unwanted attention, and for that Fen’Harel was very grateful at the moment.

                      The white male had led the female to a somewhat narrow path that sinuated up the mountainside to the south. He was heading towards a passage that was carved through the stone and ended up into a small woods near the backwall of Skyhold. The Inquisition rarely used the passage save for Lelianas agents and tasks that required quick access to the north for a small party **.** It shouldn’t be barred but merely covered in some quick manner, so Fen’Harel and Fen’lath had easy access to it. They were so high in the mountains now that there was snow everywhere, and the path they were walking on was completely covered by it. There were footprints in the snow, though, so someone, by the looks of it, must have returned to Skyhold recently. The Dread Wolf examined the footprints closely.

_A group of three_ , he remarked, _has a group of spies returned just now?_

A muffled crunching sound made Fen’Harel prick up his ears. He had grown a bit cautious since letting his guard drop and be noticed by the dalish. He wasn’t worried about himself, but... The male gazed up the path which the female had already taken and was now lazily padding onwards, waiting for him to catch up. She glanced back at him and, as he too took another step forward, continued her steps. Perhaps Fen’harel had grown even too cautious due to his fierce sense of protection for Fen’lath. He wanted to keep her safe, _the wolf_ wanted to defend her from everything and everyone that might try to harm his vhenan, his... mate.

_Was that it?_ he wondered to himself once again.

Was the female wolf trying to... woo him? Just as Fen’lath had enticed him before, it seemed that she was trying to do so to him once again as a wolf.

_So, ambitious, are we?_ Fen’Harel thought with a grin.

The red-furred wolf seemed to consider him an alpha male and obviously wanted to be the other half of an alpha pair. And that would mean... The mere though made heated waves course though the Dread Wolf's body. Fortunately for him, wolves coudn’t blush. If they were, he would look like a grinning cherry right now.  


	3. The ambush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that this chapter includes some graphical depictions of violence.

A startled yelp made the Dread Wolf alert immediately. While he was lost in his own thoughts, Fen’lath had continued her journey ever onward and stepped on something. Now the red female was caught in a snare, and when she tried to break loose from the trap, another snare tightened around the same leg as the other one. The female curled to reach backwards and tried to free herself from the ropes. The male was about to surge to her to help her, but he stopped abruptly when he saw three men emerge from the cover of the snowy slopes. One of them rose the slight slope behind Fen’lath and rest two came from the opposite direction. They were obviously going towards her.

_Hunters...?_  

Fen’Harel was quick to act. He rushed to his vhenan and, as the female lied on the ground still trying to free herself, positioned himself standing over her, bared his teeth, and let out a low menacing growl. Everyone of the three men stopped and eyed the large white wolf with caution. Then one of them, a tall and somewhat slit fellow standing behind the wolfpair, prepared to arch his bow. Two silvery eyes focused on him, and before the man could even reach for an arrow, Fen’Harel was on his throat, pinning him to the snow.

”Carl!” he heard the two men shout from the other side of the path.

A man of normal build neared him and the man who writhed between his jaws, as the other man, who was tall and burly, aimed the ensnared female with his spear. Noticing that, the Dread Wolf immediately let go of the third man and attacked the armed one without a doubt or fear in his mind, silvery eyes burning like liquid mercury. The man managed to scratch the males cheek with the tip of his crude spear, but the wolf didn’t seem to notice or feel it at all as it pushed him to the ground with its large paws. Then the male turned to the third man who didn’t seem sure about what to do: to kill the smaller ensnared wolf or deal with the larger one first?

_Foolish man,_ Fen’harel snarled, readying to make his kill _._

And in that moment, an arrow flew through the air.

Maybe the man who aimed the shot missed this time or was, all in all, a really bad shooter for a hunter. The arrow hit the Dread Wolf’s left ear and made a cleft on its tip. He let out an enraged growl as the hunter prepared to shoot another arrow. The second man, who he had fallen to snow, had gotten up and the third, who had finally made some sense out of the situation, now held the spear which had fallen from his companions hands. And amidst all that was Fen’lath, still trapped in the double-snare made by the three men. The female had chewed the other rope only to find a metal wire hidden beneath the hem, and that wire was now painfully taking hold in her leg. The Dread Wolf started growling deep from his throat - he was furious.

_Ma emma’nan harel, shemlen_ , he thought and then vanished into an obscure black smoke, from which a wide row of big white teeth soon grinned, pre-victorious, _ma emma harel._

A blind panic washed over the hunters, or whoever ever they were in the end.

”How did it do _that_?” one of them shouted a question to the others as if they were able to explain the transformation they had just witnessed.

”It’s a demon!” reasoned another.

_Hardly,_ Fen’harel laughed in his mind, amused.

”Return to the Magister”, the third man urged his comrades, ”no information is worth this!”

_Ah._

 

The pitchblack wolf sprinted towards the bowman who was already fleeing from the scene head over heels, brought him down, took a firm grip of his head with its teeth, and pulled. The spy screamed in pure agony.  

**So these men were spies, not hunters – gathering knowledge for Tevinter, no less, by the sound of it.**

The bowman’s spine started to crack vertebra by vertebra. The wolf pulled his head all the way until it heard a loud crack and the screams stopped. It let the limb lifeless body drop from its robust jaws and minded the two remaining spies. One of them had frozen solid with fear, and a small yellow stains could be seen at the snow at his feet.

**This should be mentioned to Dorian, just not the whole story.**

The six-eyed beast snarled at the terrified spy who still did not make even a single move. His silent whimper turned into a horrified scream when the wolf took him by the throat and ripped it open down to the windpipe.

**After being forced to take his nightmarish form, the Dread Wolf had no intention of leaving any of the men alive, even if they had been members of the Inquisition.**

After letting the second spy’s body fall to the snow with blood still gurgling from the ripped-open throat, the black male turned to the female who was still trapped. The female was resting now, strained from the battle against the snares. Crimson drops dripped from beneath the now-bare metal wire that had tightened around her other hindleg. The Dread Wolf wouldn’t be able to help her properly at the time. He needed fingers to open the wire, and there was still one man on the run down the slope. He licked Fen’laths face comfortingly, and she gave him a knowing lick back. Then the Dread Wolf turned and chased after the fleeing spy who was desperately trying to make his way straight down the gently sloping snow-covered mountainside instead of  the path. With a couple of gigantic leaps the wolf reached the man, brought him down, and turned him over to his back so that he saw the unarmed mans face.

”No”, he nearly sobbed, ”please, I’ll make a pact with you! What sort of demon are you? Fear? Let me live, please!”

_You talk too much, little man,_ the Dread Wolf stated, _for I may bring you nigthmares, but I am no demon._

For a moment seemed that the spy had actually heard his words in his mind as his grey-blue eyes widened with fear. He started to scream in pure terror, when wolf opened its jaws and took a firm grip of his head - saliva dripping all over his face. The Dread Wolf lifted its left frontpaw to be able drag the man from underneath him and lift him into the air.

**No one except for Fen’lath could know who he really was, not yet. And had these men succeeded in their attempt to kill her... He would have a heart no more.**

A re-found rage overwhelmed the Dread Wolf’s mind. The teeth around the still-alive spy’s skull tightened their grip. The wolf swang the man up high, his feet facing the sky, and then quickly, holding his head in the exact position as it was now, started to swing him back down in a tossing motion.  

_Na din’an sahlin._

_*snap*_

The man’s neck broke so hard that the one of the vertebras of his neck pointed out of his throat. Whoever the spies had actually been, they were no more.

The Dread Wolf tossed the last body away and turned towards the mountain path. Swiftly he waded though the snow back up the mountainside and there a cloud of black smoke swirled around him once again. The considerably long dreadlocks now rested on the shoulders of a tall elvhen man as he walked to Fen’lath **.** Although he had blood on his face, a cut on his cheek, and a cleft on the tip of his left ear, worry shone from his golden eyes like a setting sun shines with sad warmness. He would heal his own wounds later. Fen’Harel kneeled infront the red female who was still resting on the ground. She put back her ears and whimpered. The snares around her hindleg tightened momentarily as she tried move it.

”I know, vhenan”, Fen’Harel soothed her, ”don’t worry. It will be over soon.”

Slowly the elvhen god shifted nearer the snares, grabbed one of them with his left hand, and stretched out his right index finger. An ethereal claw appeared to its tip and with it he cut the snare loose while preventing it snapping against the females paw. He motioned again and cut the other snare loose too. The red wolf whined thankfully and tried to stand, but Fen’Harel didn’t let her do that yet.

”Patience, ma’lath”, he urged her with a soft voice, ”I still have to tend to the wound.”

The female instantly calmed down as if she had understood his every word. Fen’harel loosened the snareknots with his fingers and cut off both of the loops. Then he gently touched fur and skin around the actual wound which was partly so deep that he could see the muscles. The female put back her ears and grunted in discomfort.

”Shh, da’sa”, Fen’Harel soothed her again, ”have patience.”

She calmed down again as he began to heal her wound. A blue swirl surrounded the wolf’s leg as he checked it for bleeding and damaged tissue **.** Meanwhile a thought circled inside Fen’Harel’s head like a stubborn fly.

_Did she really understand me_? Was the main question that was bothering him, _I’m sure she didn’t before, but now things seem to be different. And if she can, will she remember everything – and me – if she... No, **when** she is herself again? _

Doubt was a feeling that made Fen’Harel really vexed. _Fenedhis*_ , he was the Bringer of Nightmares and the Roamer of the Beyond! How did _doubt_ settle into that picture? Fen’Harel let out a long frustrated sigh as he finally finished the healing process of Fen’laths leg. The red wolf immediately scrambled on her feet and eyed her hindleg suspiciously.

”Better now, vhenan?” Fen’Harel inquired.

The female looked at him with her bright eyes, sat infront of him, and pressed her head to his right shoulder. Fen’Harel returned the embrace with his strong arms and smiled. Maybe she did understand him after all. As comforting as that thought was, it made Fen’Harel feel frightened: frightened that when Fen’lath was herself again, she would remember everything that he had hidden from her, despise him, and leave for forever. He hadn’t dared to touch her, or sleep with her in the same bed through the nights in fear of showing his true-self to her, instead aching for her in the darkness of his own room. Tears glistened in Fen’Harel’s eyes when sadness washed over his mind. He held Fen’lath even tighter in his arms. She licked his ear ones as a consolation. That gesture made Fen’Harels thoughts take a new, if somewhat already explored, trail: it was still a mystery to him, that if the wolf undestood him, why didn’t she remember _herself_? Fen’Harel was now fairly sure that the female wolf was Fen’lath only by origin, so to speak, but then on the other hand, if she was a mere wolf, how could she understand his speech – probably even what he said in Elvhen? The wolf wasn’t so different in character than Fen’lath either, oh no: the wolf was just as mischievous, thoughtful and even a little stubborn as Fen’lath always was. She just wasn’t... present.

                      For a little while the pair just stayed where they were, embracing each other, Fen’Harel with his arms and the wolf in her own way. The snow didn’t disturb them, neither did the cold mountain climate. The only thing that mattered was the one that should have ever mattered from the very first day they had met: not the Inquisition, not the Elvhen - just that they had each other. Fen’Harel smiled once more before he loosened his hold on Fen’lath’s neck that was covered by soft red fur. The female watched as he stood up and slowly dragged his hand over his face in a slow sweeping motion. A short moment later Fen’Harel had disappeared again: there was only the knowleadgable, controlled, and sometimes a little stubborn, Solas. The elven apostate eyed the red wolf with a warm expression on his face.

”Come, vhenan”, he said, ”let us see if someone in Tarasy’lan Te’las knows what to do.”

 

**Elvish translations for this chapter:**

_Ma emma’nan harel, shemlen, ma emma harel:_ You should fear my vengeance, human, you should fear _me_

_na din’an sahlin_ : now you die

_Tarasy’lan Te’las_ : The Place Where the Sky is Held Back (Skyhold)

\---

*Please note that in this fic, fenedhis means ”crap”. I am aware that literally it can mean ”wolfs dick”, but it would be a bit weird if Fen’Harel self-absorbedly swore with reference to his own wang.  
...  
Oh well, as said by a one particularly famous cat: we’re all mad here. Or at least I think I am :D


	4. The Wolf's hope

The passage to the forest had been short, and there were luckily no more spies to be confronted. After the insident, though, Fen’Harel had always been ready to defend against any possible attackers. He let himself relax only now that the pair stood at Skyhold’s open gates. The guards who were patrolling on the battlements had already spotted their arrival and welcomed ”Solas” back to the fortress. They had not asked why he had a wolf with him instead of the Inquisitor, but Fen’Harel was sure that the questions would flood over him like a tidal wave in no time. It was noon and soldiers were practising on the courtyard under the watchful eye of the... Bull? What had muddled the commanders mind so badly that he had put the qunari in charge of the daily practice? Something must have happened, but there was no time to ponder it right now, especially because of...

” _Where_ have you two been?” Dorian asked loudly in a nobbish tone as if they had just insulted him brutally.

Well, because of _that_.    

The Tevinter mage marched determinedly towards the gates before he stopped, baffled by two facts: one, that the man who he knew as Solas had a wolf with him and secondly...

”Where the.... _Where is the Inquisitor_?”

And there it was. Fen’Harel sighed deeply. This was going to take a good, long while.

                      The ruckus near the gates started to draw attention from other members of the Inquisition who happened to have a perfect timing for being in the courtyard. Dorian, however, didn’t care as he focused his steel-grey eyes on the elven apostate and furrowed.

”Where have you left Fela**?” he demanded to know, fighting against his mounting confusion **,** ”and _why_ do you have a _wolf_ with you?”

”I haven’t left her anywhere”, Fen’Harel stated matter-of-factly because he had no intention of mincing words on the matter, ”she stands right beside me.”

Dorians eyes went wide with disbelief as the apostate gestured towards the female wolf who had arrived with him.

”You’re joking, aren’t you?” he said turning his gaze towards the wolf and then back to Fen’Harel, disbelieving and trying to call a bluff, ”she’s hiding somewhere, isn’t she?” You can come out now, you tricky minx, so that we can send your substitute back to the woods where it belongs!”

No answer.

Fen’Harel shook his head and gazed at the Tevinter who was trying to search the shadows under the gateway.

”I’m afraid this is not a trick, my friend”, he said with a sad impression on his face, ”she turned into a wolf when we were at Crestwood and hasn’t morphed back since. I got her back here as quickly as I could.”

Dorian eyed the apostate for a while, considering the options and weighing the truth.

”I suspect you wouldn’t leave her alone so easily in some demon-infested and god-forsaken place”, he finally stated and crouched.

The red female, who had sitten by the side of Fen’Harel while he and the the Tevene had conversed, put back her ears briefly and then cocked her head.

”It’s alright, vhenan”, Fen’Harel said inclining his head downwards towards the wolf.

She, in turn, tilted her head upwards to meet his gaze. Then she looked to Dorian and, after a while, went to make acquitance with this stange new man.

”She doesn’t remember you”, Fen’Harel explained to him, ”but she seems keen on making acquintance.”

The wolf bumped her nose to Dorians left ear making him nearly to cry out. The mage closed his left eye as the chills which the touch of cold and wet nose had given him passed by.

”And here I though she would rip me to pieces”, he noted, trying to be witty though he was still clearly a bit confused with the whole situation, ”speaking of which, if she doesn’t remember me, how did she remember _you_?”

”She didn’t”, Fen’Harel clarified, ”after the transformation, she challenged me and I bested her in combat. Now she seems to think that I’m some kind of an alpha male.”     

At the very moment he said those words aloud, his inner wolf grinned – widely.   

”Bah”, Dorian scoffed, ”hope you didn’t ’best’ her in a way I think you may have.” 

Fen’Harel couldn’t help but chuckle.

”Sorry to dissappoint you, my friend, but I’m not into bestiality.”

_Not that I hadn’t thought about making an exception in this case_ , Fen’Harel added to himself and felt something twich: not in his head and neither in his heart, just... _elsewhere_.

                      During the conversation between the two men, a few bystanders had dared to come closer. Others had chosen to hold their distance to the red wolf ’or whatever it was’, as someone among the soldiers had phrased it. Iron Bull, to no ones surpise, was one of the bravest who dared to come closer than others. Cassandra was also making her way to the scene from the direction of the quartermasters building by which she usually spent time reading Varric’s juicy and extravagant novels. Scout Harding had also a direct view, but she decided to keep her distance just in case, it seemed. The rest of the Inquisition was on their way, no doubt of that, but for now, the rest of the lot who was already on the courtyard, consisted  of soldiers **.** They were analyzing the scene in their own way, and their conclusions transpired in their current positions in the courtyard. Though the wolf had apparently decided already that Dorian was a friend, it wasn’t certain how she would react to the rest of  the bystanders. Fen’Harel had wondered that too. In fact, he had wondered if it was wise to bring her to Skyhold at all, but he knew that there was only one way to find out, and that the fortress would be the only place within hundreds of miles where any help for the situation could be found. So, if not the most wise of choices from all aspects, Fen’Harel had to try. Fen’lath couldn’t stay as a wolf forever, especially with Corypheus still on the loose.

 

***

 

After a while, the crowd in the courtyard had gotten so large that some people already stood on stairways and battlements to have a better view. The curiosity in every living beings nature never seizes to exist, it seemed. But reasons didn’t matter when Cassandra, having gotten to the bottom of the ”wolfcase”, finally had enough and started to disperse the crowd. If they wouldn’t leave voluntarily, she promised to literally kick their asses and nobody wanted to experience that by the seekers steel boots. When the path was finally – and amazingly quickly – clear, Fen’Harel started to determinately walk towards the stairs that led to the main hall. The red female quickly followed him and took her place by his side. With Dorian on their heels, they ascended the stairs, and when they reached the doorway and disappeared from the view of those who stayed outside, there was a sound of shattering pottery and a _very_ high-pitched scream.

_*sigh*_

Perhaps the servants should be driven out. If not for the sake of their nerves, then for the hearing left in the ears of others.

 

A group of members of the inner circle gathered to the Inquisitors room. At first, Fen’Harel was about to suggest his rotunda, but then he had thought about the other towerfloors above it, and upper floors often ment unwanted listeners. It was better for them to have a meeting here because no-one usually came here uninvited, or at least without knocking first. In addition to Fen’Harel and Dorian, Fen’lath was surrounded by five more people: Vivienne, Leliana, Cassandra, Iron Bull and Cole who the wolf had accepted immediately, to everyones surprise. Josephine had started making diplomatical arrangement as soon as she heard about the situation, cancelling all of the Inquisitors personal appointments, and so on. Sera and Blackwall had propably jammed themselves into the tavern because they were nowhere to be heard or found, and absolutely _nobody_ knew where the commander was – in fact, no-one had seen him the whole day. And when Fen’Harel just this once would have hoped for Morrigan to be present, the damned witch who always boasted with her supposed knowledge with ancient lore was nowhere to be found. Varric, on the other, had chosen to stay in the main hall after the red wolf had made acquintance with him. In short, she had been so taken with him that she had tried to invite him to play, toppling him twice in the process. So, there they were: seven members of the Inquisition, trying to help their leader – and no one even seemed to know where to start. Damn.

                      For a while, everything was quiet as everyone were pondering what would be their next step in solving the problem – well, all except for Cole who talked to Fen’lath and scratched her by the neck with his ghostly pale fingers. The wolf seemed to listen to the spiritboy attentively.

”What’s that on you face, dear?” Vivienne suddenly asked Dorian, changing the subject entirely for a moment.

The Tevene looked confused and touched his face which felt sticky beneath his fingers.

”Ah”, he realised, ”our furry Inquisitor must have done that. Does anyone know ís wolf saliva any good to the skin?”

Some of those present snickered. The Orlesian mage wasn’t one of them.

”I’m quite sure it would be better for you _and_ your skin if just washed it of, dear”, she was about to finish speaking but then added, ”and don’t mention that ’furry Inquisitor’ part in the presence of our roguish elf, or she will start to call Fen’lath ’furquisitor’ or something equally unpleasant.”

Viviennes words caused more snickering, but Fen’Harel didn’t join it like he had done when it was discovered that Fen’Lath had literally washed the mouschtached mages face.

_Best friends indeed_ , he had though then, smiling at his vhenan, but now that the joking and laughing seemed to just go on, he felt that they were wandering too far from the subject at hand.

”Would you please stop joking?” he asked indignantly, ”is anyone here actually interested in how to change Fen’lath back to herself, or are you just gonna discuss how to take care of ones visage?”   

                      A new kind of silence descended upon those present – it was the sort that was born out of shame. Fen’Harel glared at them with his eyes that were now masqueraded in the shade of beautiful icy blue.

_They can’t help her_ , he though in realisation, _if they were able, they’d be doing something meaningful at the moment, not making fun of the tiniest things that were off and came to their attention._

After a short moment, however, one of them spoke.

”She has gained something back of her real-self already”, Cole announced with his boyish soft voice, ”but she’s not complete yet.”

Fen’Harel strided quickly to him and crouched by his side. 

”What do you feel, Cole?” he asked with a grave expression on his face.

”It seems like the wolf is her spirit, just like...” the spiritboys words trailed off.

Fen’Harel nearly let out a relieved sigh. Fortunately, Cole had gotten better in not blurt out everyones secrets. It may have had something to do with the incident when the poor boy had read Iron Bulls thoughts, and then Fen’Lath had had to explain to him what ”bondage” actually meant. Cole remained motionless  and speechless for a while, as he often did when recollecting his thought.

After a while he continued: ”This is so new to her, it has happened just once before, and the change didn’t last this long then.”

_There!_

”This has happened before?” Fen’Harel asked, seizing the opportunity at once.

”Yes.”     

The elvhen man rose to his feet at once.

”Then I know where we need to go.”      

When Fen’Harel was ready to march out of the room, there was a knock on the door before it was opened cautiously.

”Inquisitor!” a deep familiar voice called, ”are you here?”

_Damn._

”She’s here, commander”, Cassandra answered quickly on behalf of everyone else, ”she’s just... different.”

”What?” Cullen asked with a hoarse disbelieving voice as he started to barge up the stairs, ” what do you... Maker! Is that...?”

”A wolf, commander”, Fen’Harel cut in in a scholarly manner, ired by the sudden interruption, ”but also our beloved Inquisitor.”

”I know what a wolf looks like, Solas, but what is it doing... _What did you just say_?”

”I simply stated that the Inquisitor has somehow turned into a wolf and won’t change back.”

Cullen was baffled. He opened his mouth to speak, his lips moving, but no words came out.

”We are here to try to find out what’s wrong with her”, Leliana explained to him, ”but no one has ever heard of a shapechanger who cannot change back.”

”Especially when she’s not one”, Dorian added, ”a shapechanger, that is.”

Leliana nodded her acceptance and confirmation to the mages words and then turned to face Cullen again.

”But why are you here, commander?” she inquired, ”we haven’t seen you all day.”

”I was just coming to tell the Inquisitor that there has been an incident in Wycome. It seems that Duke Antoine lost his mind to the red lyrium and, under the influence of Corypheus, he tried to destroy Clan Lavellan. Our soldiers intervened and managed to rescue some of its members. I have spent all day arranging carriages to wait for them on the Storm Coast’s restored harbor. They should arrive here in a few days.”

The commanders report left others completely shocked. Wordless, Fen’Harel dropped to his knees beside his vhenan. His quick motion made the jawbone necklace swing infront of him like a pendulum. Cole stood up, making room for him.

”Don’t worry”, the spiritboy consoled him, ”she doesn’t understand it. She has no memories of her clan, at least not yet.”

”Not yet”, the apostate replied, ”but when she will...”

The red wolf whined when he wrapped his arms her, sensing his sorrow for her.

_Oh, vhenan, I’m so sorry. It was to be your salvation and now, we just have to wait._

No-one dared to say a word in fear of shattering the moment. They just watched Fen’Harel embrace his beloved with his own eyes in tears. They were for her loss and for the fact that, when he had found hope, it was whisked away like a leaf by the wind. He had but one option now: to wait and see **-** to hope that someone with a sufficient knowledge about Fen’lath’s last ”incident” would show up. Fen’Harel didn’t turn when he sa movement in the corner of his right eye, but embraced his vhenan as tight as before.

”I’m sorry, Solas”, Cassandra said to him, ”I know what it feels like to find hope and then lose it almost immediately.”

”Thank you, seeker”, Fen’Harel replied, raising his head a little to gaze into the female wolf’s golden eyes, ”but we will see if it’s truly lost or not when Fen’laths clan arrives.”

”That we’ll do. Until then, I’ll pray for a miracle, for her sake – and yours.”

 

And those words made the god of rebellion smile.

 

***

 

The council had disbanded two hours after Cullen had brought the news of the events in Wycome. By that time, it hadn’t been completely dark yet, but Fen’Harel was tired of the nearly constant travelling since Crestwood. They had stopped to sleep and rest from time to time, of course, but he hadn’t been able to sleep properly because he had kept watch over his sleeping vhenan. Now that they were safely inside the walls of Skyhold, he dared to stretch out to the large Orlesian bed in the Inquisitors quarters and close his eyes. The red female climbed on the bed too and curled herself tightly beside him. Fen’Harel smiled and let his hand glide through her fur a couple of times before drifting off to sleep.

 

_On nydha, ma’lath, nuva emas era’ina’lan’ehn._

 

**Elvish translations for this chapter:**

_On nydha, ma’lath, nuva emas era’ina’lan’ehn:_ Good night, my love, may you have beautiful dreams

 

___

 

**Dorian had always wilfully declared that using Fen’laths real name made his tongue form knots. So the mage had developed ”Fela”, which, according to his own words was ”much easier than some Elvhen tangles”. In reality, Dorian had wanted to make up a nickname for his best friend and had just left ”n” and ”th” out of her name. He had also decided that it was also a good shortening of felandaris too, pointing to the fact that Fen’lath used to make her ”demontea” out of it. No one knew why.

 

P.S. To Sera's ear the whole ”namegame” just reminded her of one word: fellatio. After she had develop that one up, she had made up a whole story about ”Solas and his elven glory” in which Fen’lath had played the part of the latter. It had been quite a topic for discussion in Heralds Rest where the rogue elf resided and perhaps it still was. However, one thing was very certain in the whole farce: Sera was _very_ lucky that Fen’Harel hadn’t turned her into a roasted chicken - or worse (in her case he suspected that it would be turned into a cookie).


	5. The tavern

Fen’Harel woke up the next morning feeling disappointed. He had tried to find his vhenan in the Fade with no success. Perhaps it somehow related to what Cole had said about her being ”uncomplete”. Animals didn’t normally enter the Fade while dreaming, but after whatever process Fen’lath was going through was complete, she could be found there, Fen’Harel was sure of it. But for now, he...

_Where is she?_

Fen’Harel looked around. There was only an imprint on the spot where the red female had slept for the night. Noticing her absence, he literally jumped out of the bed, nearly treading on his shirt and necklace which he had left on the floor for the night. He searched the quarters for his vhenan and, after no success, threw on his shirt and grabbed the jawbone necklace to put it on while running down the stairs. The first door was open with slight scratching marks on it. The one leading to the main hall was open too. As Fen’Harel rushed into the main hall he saw Varric sitting at his usual spot near the fireplace, but this time he had a red wolf sitting beside his chair. He sighed in relief and strided to them with a smile on his face.

”Aah, good morning, Chuckles”, the dwarf greeted him.

”Good morning Varric. Would you care to enlighten me on how is she here?” Fen’Harel inquired while watching one particular wolf who rested her head on Varric’s lap with an innocent look in her eyes.

”I heard loud scrathing noises coming from upstairs and when I went to find out what it was our Furgirl nearly ran me over!” the dwarf told him, half-laughing, ”I thought you were still sleeping so I let her out. She ran to the courtyard, came a few moments later back to me when I had settled on my chair, and has been here ever since.”

Fen’Harel eyed the red wolf with a playful scold **.**

”You are definitely regaining yourself, ma vhenan”, he said, ”you’re as prone to mischief as ever. I nearly fell off the bed after noticing that you had gone missing.”

The wolf huffed and closed her eyes, enjoying when Varric scratched her from the top of her head.

”Ah yes, Dorian told me about this whole transformation talk had on his way to the library.”

”Hopefully Fen’laths clan arrives here before you and the rest of the lot turn her into a lap dog.”

The dwarf laughed heartily at Fen’Harel’s joke which was masquaraded as a comment.

”Oh, Chuckles, I’m sure you spoil her too”, he said and winked.

”Perhaps I do”, the apostate answered, and Varric could have sworn that he saw a hint of blush on the man’s cheeks, ”but right now I seem to be the only one who is concerned for her.”

”We’re all concerned, you know that. One just doesn’t need show that every second. Besides, she’s happier too if everyone doesn’t look at her as if she was going to die in an hour or two.”

Varric scratched the red female from under her jaw which made her left hindleg swap. Fen’Harel held back a laugh as he turned his attention once again to the rogue dwarf.

”Well said, friend”, he agreed, ”as it seems that she enjoys your company so much, would you watch her for me for a moment?”

A quiet rumble was enough to say why he needed Varric to watch her.

”Go ahead, Chuckles, grab some breakfast”, the dwarf urged him, ”and bring Furgirl here something, will you?”

”I will”, Fen’Harel answered, ”you do realise that Fen’lath will probably remember that nickname, don’t you?”

”I’m pretty sure she likes that name, Chuckles. Otherwise she would have bitten me right in the ass by now.”

True to his own nickname, Fen’Harel chuckled on his way to the kitchen. Varric was propably right: she would have bitten him by now if she didn’t like it.

 

***

 

By the afternoon, Fen’lath had visited several members of the Inquisition. What could one say? She was curious by nature, and the wolf was no different in that aspect. Fen’Harel had followed her nearly for the whole day and opened doors for her **.** Visiting Vivienne had been a particularly interesting occasion, or a headache, differing from the point of view, as she had insisted that they should make Fen’lath appear less feral – she was the Inquisitor, after all, and ”not some mindless skulking beast”, as the mage had put it. She had suggested scented baths, hours of grooming, and maybe some ribbons for the wolfs coat. Fen’Harel had declined her requests and ideas before followed Fen’lath on her ongoing expedition, leaving behind one particularly disgruntled Orlesian First Enchanter.

Standing at the doorstep of Heralds Rest, the red wolf was clearly a little baffled by the soundscape. Despite the time of the day, the tavern was already commendably beginning to fill up, and there was enough noise to compete with an Orlesian orchestra. In fact, Fen’Harel wasn’t completely sure if this was good for Fen’lath **.** Elves had a remarkable sense of hearing but wolves had an even better one, so it was possible that all the loud talking, laughing, singing... all this _hullabaloo_ might be too much for her. Fen’Harel himself had gotten used to every sorts of rackets long time a ago, but he couldn’t say how the female wolf would react.

_Well, because she’s already in, let she be the judge of that_ , he thought as he watched his vhenan take slow steps inside.

And when he was sure that she wasn’t going to back down, so to speak, he followed her.

_This should be interesting._

The level of the noise on the first floor of the tavern decreased when some of the soldiers and agents drinking shut their mouths at the sight of the wolf. The Inquisitor had a knack for quieting everyone down for a moment when she entered a building or a room, but the wolf had a skill driving the nervous ones out with a mere glance from those golden suns of hers. The others who choosed to stay despite her intimidating presence laughed for the runaways, called them chickens, and made some comment-related noises after that. However, one mighty laugh obfuscated all others.

”Solas!” Bull called out from infront of the bar counter, raising high the pint he held in his right hand.

Fen’Harel looked around for Fen’lath for a moment and, after spotting her near the staircase, smiled and walked over to the counter. He took a chair next to the qunari and ordered himself a glass of cherry wine.

”So”, Iron Bull began when he had taken a large gulp from his pint and placed it back on the table, ”how’s Boss doing?”

”She’s getting better, so to speak”, Fen’Harel said, turning to the counter on which the bartender had just placed his order, ”she understands speech, both elvish and common, and uses gestures and reactions no normal wolf would ever use.”

”I heard she attacked you when she turned into a wolf **?** Must have been one mean fight.”

”I don’t know about that, her attack was rather ill-considered and it was easy to turn it to my advantage.”

”Boss?” the qunari sounded incredulous, ” _careless_? Should have there to witness that - I have never considered her to be anything such!”

”I suspect that she was more wolf then than she is now and my presence set her off”, the apostate replied, making some mandatory omissions. 

Bull might possess a Ben-Hassrath training, but he was getting a bit drunk and Fen’Harel, after all, was the king of tricksters.

”So what you’re saying is that she is regenerating, as it were?” the qunari asked.

”In a sense, yes. I came here in hopes of that someone knew what could have caused her transformation. I was surprised that even you hadn’t heard of at least something similar case.”

”Hey, I may have been a spy, but I never fancied getting my hands dirty with things related to magic and end up in some demon’s digestion if those things even have one. Besides, there are no shapechangers among saarebas, so the qunari knowledge on the subject is purely based on what the Ben-Hassrath has collected along years. If you don’t know something on the subject, I highly doubt we know either, not even the Vid...”

                      Bulls words were cut off by a loud yell. Something crashed, and a low growl emerged from the backroom behind the counter. Fen’Harel rose up quickly, jumped onto his stool, then onto the counter, and then to the floor with such grace that it would have put more than one rogue to shame. His wineglass didn’t even sway let alone fall during the process, but when Bull stood up and rampaged towards the backroom, it was the end of that glass and its contents. But no matter, it wasn’t very good wine anyway.

                      Reaching the doorway leading to the backroom, Fen’Harel saw Cabot, the dwarf innkeeper, holding a half-broken stool between himself and the female wolf whose growl had gotten even deeper.

”Drop that stool immediately”, he ordered with stern tone while striding towards them.

”No, I won’t!” decreed the dwarf, ”that damned beast will eat me if I do!”

”Don’t be a fool, shorty, Boss won’t do you any harm”, said Bull who was now standing a few steps behind Fen’Harel.

Cabot’s words had immediately turned the elvhen man’s eyes into a wild thunderstorm, and his expression turned into a feral snarl **.** A warning tingle crept on his skin but he was too furious to pay attention to it.

” _Put. That. Down_ ”, he ordered again, but this time his voice was deep and dangerously dark.

The dwarf hesitated at the sight of his anger, but strictly declined to obey him, again. He had heard about the red wolf and who she really was, no doubt of that, which made his behavior even more unexplainable. Perhaps he was scared of wolves. Or dogs. Or both. Whatever the reason, none would be good enough for Fen’Harel. He stretched out his right arm and a small flame ignited on his palm.

”Ar'din nuvenin na'din, durger’len.”

A strong arm grabbed him calmingly by the shoulder.

”You don’t need to do that Solas **-** or whoever you are.”

The flame was put out, and Fen’Harel turned around when he realised what Bull had just said. He saw that his skin looked considerably younger again, and he felt the weight of his hair on his scalp. The slip in Fen’Harels self-control had caused his mask to drop.

_Fenedhis!_

_*whoosh*_

No-one was given any time to think about the whole situation when the rather small backroom was filled with the mixture of cries of pain, crashing furniture, and yelping. Fen’Harel turned around quickly, his long dreadlocks swooping the face of the qunari standing behind him. In a second, he saw the innkeeper holding a single leg of the stool he had had in his hands, splinters of the floor, and Fen’lath running towards the door.

” _Vhenan!”_

 The Bringer of Nightmares would have shown the insolent dwarf what that particular moniker of his meant, but instead he passed Bull and any curious onlookers who had gathered closer to the backroom, and sprinted towards the front door. When he got outside, he saw Fen’lath running towards the gate as fast as she could **.**

”Hey, Chuckl...” Varric, who was heading to the tavern, was about to greet the apostate, but his words trailed a bit off when he didn’t saw Solas who he knew, ”..es?”

The rings Fen’Harel wore in his hair as adornments chinked against each other when he halted and turned his head towards his friend.

” _Andrastes ass_!” the dwarf exclaimed, ”is that really you?”

”I’m sorry, Varric”, were the only words the elvhen man said and sprinted towards the gates with all haste. He chose not to use stairs instead leaping to the small wall and then into the air, disappearing into a black cloud of smoke.

                      The people on lower courtyard gasped when a large white wolf landed smoothly near them despite the fact that it had just dived down from a rather high ledge. Fen’Harel was sure that Varric watched him go from the upper courtyard too, but that mattered little now. His secret had been uncovered due to his own carelessness, and his vhenan was on the run. Perhaps the innkeeper had scared her off, or maybe she had remembered something of herself and therefore the reason would be far more complicated. Nonetheless, Fen’Harel had to catch her **-** for her sake and for his. Remembering Cassandras words, he spurred his speed to its limits.

 

_Wait for me, ma’lath._

 

Just outside Skyholds gates, a baffled scout was passed by two wolves: a red one, and soon also by a considerably larger white one. The scout had an elf with him, but neither of the wolves noticed it: the red one didn’t care, and white one didn’t have any time to loose.   

 

**Elvish translations for this chapter:**

_Ar'din nuvenin na'din, durger’len:_ I don’t want to kill you, dwarf


	6. Revelations

The wolfpair had vanished into the forest behind Skyhold. The female had weaved her way between pines and other growing stock until the male had lost sight of her. At that point Fen’Harel had resorted to following her scent and the pawprints she had left in the moss covering the forest floor. They had led him to an earthy cave that was hidden near the northern mountainside. Now that the white male stood at the entrance of that cave, he heard a quiet pitiful whine that emanated from inside. With two silvery eyes focused on the darkness, he distinguished the red wolf lying on the cavefloor, holding her ears and tail down – miserable. Fen’Harel morphed into himself again, golden eyes gleaming like two midnight suns in the embrace of a night. He bent down a bit so he wouldn’t hit the ceiling. The wolf watched him, but didn’t rise her head. If wolves were able to appear depressed, she would be a perfect example for it.

”Vhenan”, Fen’Harel called her softly.

When she turned her head away, he walked to her and crouched.

”Everythings alright, da’sa”, he soothed her, trying to catch her eye, ”you’re not responsible for what happened at the tavern.”

The wolf didn’t return his gaze but sat up nonetheless. Fen’Harel set his right hand on her neck with petition.

”Please, ma sa’lath.”

This time the wolf obliged, turning her face to him. Fen’Harel flinched when he saw her eyes. They weren’t of their own golden shade, neither of Fen’lath’s forest green: they were bright green and turbulent with pure magic.

_The mark_ , the elvhen thought

And when he wasn’t repared for it, the red female reached for him, pressing her forehead to his.

”Oh, but it was my fault, Dread Wolf”, he heard a familiar voice saying and then everything went - ironically saying - dark.

                     

***

 

The place was familiar. Fen’Harel recognized it the very moment his eyes saw again. He, Fen’lath, and others had seen it at Adamant.

”This is the Fade”, he stated aloud instinctively.

”It is”, came a confirmation from beside him.

When Fen’Harel turned towards the one who spoke, he was so amazed that he took a step back. He cocked his head and sharpened his gaze in disbelief.

”Vhenan?” he asked, baffled by what he saw, ”Fen’lath?”

The female elf smiled.

”It’s me, ma sa’lath.”

                      The female elf was Fen’lath, alright, she just appeared a bit... bestial. She stood nude infront of her beloved, although partially covered by red silky fur. Her long hair resembled the mane of a lion and it descended smoothly over her back as well as her breasts. Shorter hair grew out of the outer sides of her arms and legs. Fen’Harel felt the sight instantly driving him mad with surpressed desire. For so long he had denied himself seeing her like this and now she was there, right infront of him - bare as a fresh spring flower. His desire for her, however, was challenged by his astonishment for the sight in general. The golden elvhen eyes gleamed in the murky green lights of the Fade. Fen’lath covered her mouth slightly with her right palm as she tittered in amusement, but after that she gave him a soft smile, affection glittering in her eyes which weren’t green but golden like those of the wolf.

”As you said to me just a moment before, Fen’Harel, ma lath”, her voice sounded like beautiful singing to his ears while she approached him, ”it’s alright.”

”But how...” the elvhen man started, but Fen’lath hushed him with her fingers.

”Shh, ma solas’fen”, she practically purred at him and enfolded her arms around his neck, hiding them beneath his dreadlocks.

He grinned while she leaned closer to him.

”You’re a very odd wolf, vhenan”, he teased her.

”How so?”

”Wolves don’t purr.” 

A smile crossed Fen’lath’s pale lips as she chuckled.

”You of all people should know that I’m a very _very_ special wolf”, she whispered coyly and, bringing her face even closer with every word, pressed her lips on his at the end of the sentence.

                      Fen’Harel tried to speak, but Fen’lath didn’t let him. The kiss was utterly passionate and enchanting, filled by their deep longing for each others touch. The situation was not expected, but... Fen’Harels skin tingled with sensation when the red fur verged on his cheek. Fen’lath grabbed his hair and pulled him tighter into her fiery embrace. Her gesture encouraged the elvhen man’s tongue to tease its way into her mouth, whirling then wildly around hers. And for a moment, they just stood there: entwined in their shared passion **.**  

                      When Fen’lath broke the kiss, it left Fen’Harel in small dismay. He felt greedy and yearned for more, but managed barely to restrain himself from immediately reaching for her again. Fen’lath beamed at him, her eyes twinkling like distant stars. Fen’Harel knew that look well.

”You’re such a tease, ma lath”, he scolded her playfully.

”Well”, she grinned wickedly, ”I quess we’re even now, remember?”

Her words made Fen’Harel furrow and let his gaze drop to the grey stoneground. His desire and joy for her turned into shame in the blink of an eye.

”Ir abelas, ma vhenan”, he said and closed his eyes for not daring to even look at her.

When a comforting delicate hand touched his left cheek, his eyes opened a little.

”Don’t blame yourself, ma lath”, Fen’lath told him with a voice so gentle that it nearly made his heart melt, ”now that I know the truth, I understand why you had to do what you did. It broke my heart to hear those words, but after that, when I needed you, you chose to stay. That’s what mattered to me.”

”But you attacked me, I though you were not present”, Fen’Harel’s words were trailed off by a small nagging fear in his mind, ”or did you...?”

She cut him off again, this time by a shake of her head and, letting her hand drop, held his chin up so that their eyes met. 

”No, ma lath, that was the wolf”, she explained, ”I was there, but had no power over its actions yet. As Cole explained to you, I was slowly regaining myself, but I had two sides: me and the wolf. Everything was new to it, including our rather grumpy innkeeper. I knew better than to approach him, but the wolf had never seen a dwarf before and, when it drove him to the corner... Well, you know dwarves.” 

Fen’Harel let out a small low chuckle.

”That I do”, he agreed, ”did he hurt you?”

”No”, Fen’lath shook her head, ”I was just ashamed that I let that happen, so I ran and chose to hide. But you came after me – I’m glad you did.”

The elvhen man smiled and enfolded his arms around her, holding her tightly against his chest.

”I’m glad you stayed too”, he returned her words with a whisper, ”I was afraid that you wouldn’t, because I wasn’t honest with you, because I lied to you about who I really was.”

Hearing his words, her arms started to snake around him, embracing him as tightly as he did her.

”I know why you created the Veil”, she told him calmly, ”you did it to save us.”

_What?_

Now Fen’Harel was truly baffled. He loosened his hold on her, and let his palms drop along her back and onto her fur-covered hips. His golden eyes were wide with surprise.

” _How_?” the question struggled its way out of his mouth.

A warm smile spread across the female elf’s face.

”I guess I have some explaining to do.”

 

It was rare that someone could say something that the Trickster couldn’t battle with his wits. Still, he had been in the Fade with his vhenan for a short time and she had left him confused so many times – and in so many ways – that it felt as if someone had just punched him right into the face. Fen’lath took his hands delicately in her own and stared him lovingly - understanding. Fen’Harel stared back, delving into the golden ocean dwelling in her eyes. He could dive into that glittering gaze any time and never drown. It made him nearly forgot where they were and why.

”You know me by the name of Fen’lath as everyone else does”, the symphony that was Fen’lath’s voice brought him back to reality, ”but my real name here is Numin’gra.”

And with that sentence, she gained Fen’Harel’s absolutely _rapt_ attention.

”Your real name?” the elvhen god asked, his brow furrowing.

”It’s the name of the wolf”, she explained, ”it’s the name for me in here, like this.”

”So it’s the name of your spirit which is the wolf?”

Fen’lath gave him a confirming nod.

”It’s the name that only my parents, my grandmother, and I have known so far - and now you know it too. It’s called a ’soulname’.  My kind has had names like that to protect their inner-selves since the times of Arlathan.”

_’The times of Arlathan’?_

”Does that relate to the fact that you know what I did to the Elvhen?” Fen’Harel inquired and then added, ”and who do you mean by ’your kind’?”

Fen’lath, newly named as Numin’gra, took a deep breath but never detached her gaze from that of her beloved.

”Well...”

                      The story Numin’gra told began, as was to be expected, from the fall of Arlathan. She explained to Fen’Harel how some of the elvhen decided to reside in the safety of the woods after he created the Veil. They used the bit of magic they had left to survive and transformed into wolves, which were packanimals and skilled hunters. Eventually they started to remain in those forms for even longer periods at at time, and they even accepted real wolves into their pack. There was no alphapair as in most of the wolfpacks, so, as a result, they bred steadily. The particular kind of elves, which Numin’gra too presented, was born when real wolfmales mixed with elvhen-originated females. The pack was immensily large from the beginning, so they divided into smaller groups as more mixed-blood offspring were born. While the first mixed-bloods looked in reality the same as Numin’gra did in the Fade, the Elvhen blood in the veins of the next generation had started to take over and they looked more like elves rather than wolves. And, as the development progressed, they had lost a little in height but nothing else: all were born with the gift of magic like their fore-fathers before them, their forms more graceful than that of other elves. The wolves remained as their spirits, or souls as human preferred to call them, showing their inner-selves only in the Fade. Their individual soulnames protected them from everyone who they wished not to let near them: other elves and demons alike. And since those days, the mixed-bloods had continued existing among other elves, concealing their real nature. They were the Pathfinders: Hanal’ghilanis.

                      Fen’Harel had listened to Numin’gra’s story attentively. Although comprehensive, it had left him with quite a few questions.

”So the red wolf is your own spirit who is somehow possessing you?” he reasoned in the form of a question.

”It’s similar to possession”, Numin’gra admitted, ”it usually happens ones, forces us to learn to control the beast within us.”

Fen’Harel folded his hands and tilted his head right pensively, letting his thick bunch of hair drop to his side.

”You were there when Cole told me that the transformation already had happened to you once”, he said, furrowing, ”does this second time has something to do with the Anchor?”

”Oh, is my Wolf a clever one”, Numin’gra teased him playfully, pressing her palms to his chest, ”´what do you suspect?”

Fen’Harel thought about it for a while, then answered in realisation: ”I suspect that when you touched my orb, it stirred the elvhen blood within your veins, making you and your magic stronger. That’s why you are able to use the mark: your blood protected you from it killing you. But when it makes you stronger, it also gives the wolf more power.”

Numin’gra hummed her approval.

”For now, I remain as a wolf before I know how to get a complete hold of it.”

Delicate, yet strong fingers curled around her fur-covered shoulders. 

”And I will remain with you, ma sa’lath”, Fen’Harel promised, staring her straight in the eyes, ”I can’t deny my heart any longer. I tried to, but when I saw you needed my help... I couldn’t do that to you – or myself.”

Numin’gra smiled at him and moved her left palm to touch his cheek lovingly.

”You really would abandon your mission for me?” she asked in a voice so soft that it felt like a cushion that one could sink into.

Fen’Harel returned her smile, hearing the fragile hope hidden in her question.

”Vin, ma asha’venuralas”, he answered making Numin’gra’s face shine with joy, ”se ea ma uth’u’vun, ar tu banafelasa i’tel sar’u’lea.”

He was about to kiss her but then, just inches away from her lips, he stopped and smirked. 

”The Evanuris can fuck their own corruption right in its ass for all I care.”

                      Although his timing might be weighted by the mischief of his nature, it felt that, having now said those words aloud, it felt more real. Maybe Arlathan was no more, but with the help of Numin’gra and her kind, there was a chance for restoration without destroying the world that excisted now. The god of rebellion, although gazing his vhenan, nearly lost himself to his thoughts again, but got his focus back after hearing the vivid laughter of hers.

”Luckily for all the girls who adore love poems you’re not the god of romance,” Numin’gra remarked, laughter still vibrating in her voice.

Fen’Harel laughed more heartily than he had done in a long, long time.

As he was about to say something witty in return, warm lips brushed his ear.

”And I have better suggestion for the ’fuck’ part”, Numin’gra whispered to him, her voice fading, ”but we have to go back. Wake up, ma lath.”

 

**Elvish translations for this chapter:**

_ma solas’fen:_ my proud wolf

_Ir abelas:_ I’m sorry

_Numin’gra:_ ”Red Tears”

_Hanal’ghilanis:_ ”the Pathfinders” ( _-is_ indicating the continuity of their bloodline)

_Vin, ma asha’venuralas, se ea ma uth’u’vun, ar tu banafelasa i’tel sar’u’lea:_ Yes, my goddess, you are my eternal star and I will wither without your light


	7. The hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that this chapter contains minor graphic depictions of violence and some nfsw.

****The morning sun made the sky bathe in various shades of gold and purple and, after climbing high enough, its rays infiltrated the darkness of the cave like thieves. Fen’Harel opened his eyes and noticed that he had fallen asleep beside Numin’gra with his head pressed to the soft fur of her right side. His dreadlocks were spread all over her like a thick brown blanket. The wolf was awake too, and rised her head to gaze at him when he stroked her coat gently.

”Good morning, vhenan”, Fen’Harel greeted her speaking in a low soft voice.

He could have sworn that the wolf’s golden eyes sparkled when she reached to lick him once fron between his thin eyes brows. Fen’Harel smiled wickedly, remembering Numin’gra’s last words for him in the Fade before waking up, but made no comment on that.

Instead, he presented her a casual question: ”Are you hungry, ma lath? I didn’t see you eating last night.”

Numin’gra cocked her head, gazing him intently as he rose to his feet. Fen’Harel quickly patted the hem of his dusty tunic and then turned his head to take a look at the wolf. She still lied on the cavefloor, but her muscled seemed a bit flexed.

 _Ready for anything, it seems_ , Fen’Harel thought and grinned smugly at the bawdiness of those words.

Then he turned towards the light at the cave entrance, sprinted and, after a black smoke whirled around him and dissappeared, turned into the familiar form of the large white wolf. He kept running with Numin’gra following right behind him until both of them vanished amidst the trees and foliage of the forest.

 

It was time to revel in the senses of the beast – to live and burn in fervor for the hunt _._

As the forest behind Skyhold wasn’t particularly vast, it was easy to determine if there were any animals there or not. So far the hunting wolves had caught the scent of at least seven nugs and three rams, but no elks. In hopes for a plentiful meal, they turned their interest to the nearest ram. The white male searched the ground for scents while the red female followed a few feet behind him, observing the forest with her eyes and ears for both prey and trouble. Sometimes she stopped to listen a crack of a branch or rustling of leaves on the trees, but she always quickly continued to follow her mate. After a while the Dread Wolf slowed his pace, coming to a halt near a juniper tree. His muzzle carefully took in every scent that wafted in the air. Suddenly his pupils dilated, his back crouched, and his muscles tensed. A ram stood by a blue spruce tree, not far from the hunter, ripping dry grass off the ground with its teeth. Numin’gra crouched slightly while Fen’Harel, also ready to strike, took two careful quiet steps forward, estimated the distance, and sprinted towards the unsuspecting ram like an arrow released from the string of a longbow.

                      The ram darted off when the figure of the hunter formed on its field of view. It zigzagged between the trees, trying to lose its pursuer, but for its misfortune, the Dread Wolf was not about to give up. No matter how much the prey tried, he always caught up. When the ram once again turned right, he was quick to act. The white wolf turned and dashed towards his prey, grabbed it by the throat, and raised its front body off the ground. The ram let out an asphyxiated bleat when Numin’gra appeared to the scene and sank her teeth into its right hindleg. She kept their catch in place while Fen’Harel started to press his jaws together to crush its windpipe. The white fur got dyed into a shade of dark red by the blood that started to flow from the bitemarks. The ram struggled, but it was of no use: its death was swift when the sharp teeth sank into its flesh and its breathing came to a sudden grisly stop. Numin’gra let go off the animal’s lifeless body, and Fen’Harel started to drag it towards the cave.

 

The hunt had been very successful.

 

By the midday, only bare bones were left of the ram, and the wolfpair had left the cave in search for fresh water. Fen’Harel remembered that a mountain stream flowed down the eastern side of the mountains. It was far enough from the Skyhold’s watersource but not too far to reasonably travel to **.** He led Numin’gra out of the forest and down a slight slope leading to the east. They didn’t stop until they heard the burbling of water. The Dread Wolf walked to the stream but instead of drinking, turned his gaze towards the female. He panted, thirsty from his meal and the hunt, but he offered his vhenan the chance to drink first. She eyed him for a moment, then stepped to stand beside him and lied down, letting the cool water caress her paws as she drank from the stream.

 _Ar lath ma_ , was everything Fen’Harel could think when he dropped himself down to lie beside her.

He nugded Numin’gra affectionately with his nose before turning to drink from the stream like she did. When he oriented his gaze to her direction again, fresh water still dropping from the corners of his mouth, he saw that she looked at him too. At that very moment, he felt his heart starting to flutter – and something else stir.

_Oh no, no no no no no no!_

Fen’Harel might not be the god of romance, as Numin’gra had put it, but he could be a gentleman. Although this time he found it immensily _hard._ If he would have been in his true-form, he would have hissed aloud.

_Fenedhis._

For a moment, only the jolly burble of water and occasional sounds made by birds were the only things to be heard by the mountain stream – but not for long. Although nearly driven mad by his desire for Fen’lath more than once, Fen’Harel possessed a remarkable self-control. At the moment, however, his vhenan seemed to possess the opposite trait known as impatience. Maybe it was a conscious choice made by Fen’lath instead of the wolf. Nonetheless, before the Dread Wolf could react, she snapped him playfully by the ear and ran away from him for a couple of feet before turning to face him again. Numin’gra pounced and wagged her tail, inviting him to play, just like when they were at the banks of Lake Calenhad. This time the Dread Wolf was quick to respond to her invitation. The wolves frolicked upstream, their paws occasionally sinking into the shallow water. The rays of the sun made their coats shine as if there were little stars hidden within them. Both of them chuffed at each other as they wrestled with their paws on each other’s shoulder blades. They stopped playing from time to time to carefully caress one another, but always continued running up the slope to only to stop and start their ”match” again.

                      A small flock of sparrows flew off from a downy birch when the two wolves nearly ran into it. The male lifted his left front paw on top of the female’s back, ready to continue playing, but she stood still. Fen’Harel cocked his head questioningly, and Numin’gra reach to lick the corner of his mouth, gaining an eye contact with him. He let his paw drop off her back and gazed her intently while she turned her head to point onwards and positioned herself so that her rear was set right infront of him. The Dread Wolf lowered his head a little so that he was able to press his cheek affectionately against Numin’gra’s right hindleg. She started to sway her hips so that his cheek made a brushing motion against her although he himself did nothing. He watched his vhenan carefully when she made encouraging  and tempting sounds at him. The whole scene was ironical because Fen’Harel had denied himself to make no ill-considered advances towards Numin’gra and now _she_ was the one to make brazen suggestions of... Fen’Harel grinned in his mind as he let the building stir to take control within him. The female lifted her tail aside as he motioned his head towards her rear and licked her vulva once. Seeing that she was as ready as he himself already was, he mounted her without a second thought and, as for her lewd suggestion, he obliged.

                      Birds sat on the trees and made occasional chirps. A ram stood on a high cliff to the north - maybe something or someone else was nearby too **,** but it didn’t matter. Fen’Harel squeezed his front legs around Numin’gra and closed his eyes. It had been pure ecstasy for him when he had penetrated her and the feeling wasn’t fading. For him being larger than a normal wolf, the size of his knot had made Numin’gra whimper at first, but now both of them murred from pleasure. Fen’Harel quickened his pace within her and, when he finally came, spilling his seed into her, howled at the top of his lungs. His voice traveled over forests and echoed in the mountains, making birds to take flight and other animals freeze from fear. Its echo propably even travelled all the way to Skyhold and someone there would have a strong suspicion from whom the howl originally came from. However, what they wouldn’t know, was why it came - and they would most certainly not know that _he_ came also.

 

After lying together on the ground for nearly half an hour, the wolfpair was finally able to part from each other as the male’s swollen knot shrank enough for him to slip out of the female’s warm flesh. But even after that, they had stayed there, caressing and embracing each other, showing their love and affection. And when an hour or two had passed like that, Numin’gra wanted to ”go again”, so to speak. Fen’Harel was certain that the wolf’s instincts were at work, as wolves tended to mate several times a day when at heat, but he wasn’t offended by it – not at all. However, when they joined again, he couldn’t help but to think how their touching would feel skin to skin, in this world or the Fade. He yearned to caress her with his fingers and to make her sigh from pleasure whilr he did so. He yearned to intertwine his body with hers like the roots of a grand oak. But for now, he would seek pleasure from the warmth of her flesh and fur – and howl.

 

***

 

When the sun fell from the sky, the wolfpair finally retired to the seclusion of the cave like they had done last night. Fen’Harel padded to a cozy spot in the back and lied down. Numin’gra followed and curled up next to him looking exhausted. He waited for her to drift off to sleep before he lifted his head onto her neck and breathed deeply, content. His mind was occupied by the thought that they had to go back. He would have stayed with Numing’ra like this forever: wandering around, living secluded from the rest of the world. It wouldn’t matter if she didn’t transform back into an elf. Fen’Harel would stay with her, no matter what – protecting her, enjoying life for the first time since awakening from his long sleep. No-one had ever made him feel like he did for his vhenan **.** There had been pleasure in his long life, affection and shared moments, but not love so deep that it was like an endless ocean – eternal and full of mysteries yet to be seen. An expression that undoubtedly resembled a smile spread across the white wolf’s face.

_Ma lath..._

But then his face darkened as his thoughts had wandered a full circle and gotten back to the point where they originally started: the still-existing threat of Corypheus and his remaining Venatori. If Fen’lath remained in the form of Numin’gra, who could...?

Fen’Harel flinched and rised his head slightly at a sudden touch. A green swirl of magic that emanated from the red female brushed his right cheek gently, inviting. Althought he was sure that she was asleep, she was somehow able to use the mark. His vhenan was truly astonishing.

 _Garas, vhenan’ara,_ he heard her voice inside his head, _Era._

Hearing her call, he pressed his head against her again, closed his eyes, banished all other thoughts from his mind, and fell asleep.

 

**Elvish translations for this chapter:**

_Garas, vhenan’ara_ , _Era:_ Come with me, my heart's desire, sleep


	8. In this forest from my memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter is pure nsfw

The forest was lush. Oaks and small-leaved lime trees reached high over the other foliage with their branches. Arbor blessings hang from the small cliffs from top of which a stream falled down to continue its journey towards a nearby pond. A lonely nightingale started to sing on a nearby tree, calling for its mate. A gentle breeze caressed Fen’Harel’s skin though his clothing while he looked around and wondered why all of it seemed somehow very familiar. Then his eyes caught the sight of the backside of a stone statue depicting a sitting wolf.

 _Ah,_ a distant memory flashed through his mind, _I remember._

The statue had a stone altar before it. It was for honoring Fen’Harel and, in fact, it was the first altar ever built for him – on the site he himself had gotten to choose. It was a place where people would come to pray or ask a favor from him, and if their pleas were deemed worthy, he would have appeared before them in the form of the white wolf. The Dread Wolf took a step forward and noticed that there was something on his altar – or someone: a slender form partially covered in fur sat on the edge of the large ornate stone, hanging one foot loosely in the air. Fen’Harel took another step with a wicked smirk on his face.

” _Vhenan_.”

                      When the elvhen god reached the altar, he found Numin’gra who was smiling radiantly **.**

”I was waiting for you”, she said with a hint of seduction in her tone.

Fen’Harel couldn’t help but chuckle.

”And on my sacred altar no less”, he stated, drinking in the sight with his eyes while walking towards her.

Numin’gra tilted her head coyly and kept smiling.

”My people came here for safety when Elvhenan crumbled”, she explained to him, ”they consisted mostly of your followers and in part of those of others, mostly Mythal’s. They decided to dwell here because this place was familiar and sacred to you. They had seen the corruption that seethed within their own civilization, and, though it might have brought them trouble and pain to cleanse it, didn’t blame you for what you did.”

With those words, she made blame and regret wash over Fen’Harel who was now standing only one step away from his vhenan. On the other hand, he didn’t care, but to think that some still believed in him even after all that he had done... Fen’lath’s ancestors must have come here after he had already entered uthenera and wasn’t there to help them.

_If only..._

Numin’gra must have noticed the ever slight change in his demeanor because she dropped herself off the stone altar to stand right before him.

”They thought that what you did was right, ma’lath”, she continued, her voice softer with all the mischief gone from it **,** ”they honored you with their choice of transforming into wolves. You helped them.”

”If only I had been there to _truly_  help them, to protect them from the consequenses of my actions”, Fen’Harel said, his brow furrowing sadly, and stepped to her to take her hands apolozingly in his own, ”ir abelas, vhenan.”

Numin’gra quickly freed her hands and took his face between them, staring him adamantly.

”Don’t be sorry, ma lath”, she told him, ”if you hadn’t had the courage to act on behalf of all others, there could be an evil loose in this world far worse than now. And, had I still been born, we wouldn’t have necessarily met.”

                      Fen’Harel’s golden eyes flickered when he listened to his vhenan. Perhaps she was right. He had decided to let go when they were at Crestwood, why should he turn back now? Maybe he had failed them then, but he could make it up now, especially for the woman he had began to call the love of his life. The Dread Wolf gave Numin’gra a faint smile and placed his hands on her waist.

”I will only forgive myself if you forgive me.”

She returned his smile with warmth.

”If its important to you, then I will.”

To someone’s mind it might not have been much, but for Fen’Harel Numin’gra’s words meant everything in the world.

”Ma serannas”, was everything he was able to say.

”You did my people a great service, Fen’Harel, ma sa’lath **,** and I think that it would be only appropriate if I thanked you properly on behalf of them all.”

While Numin’gra spoke, Fen’Harel felt a searching hand adventuring from his cheek to his hair. Now that it gently massaged his scalp, he saw the coy expression return to the face of his vhenan.

”Is that so?” he smirked, taking the hint, ”and just how are you going to implement that?”

”I can think of many ways, oh Roamer of the Beyond”, she answered impishly, ”but I think that none of them would be better than to sacrifise myself to you right here, on your altar, in your domain.”

Fen’Harel’s smirk grew ever wider.

”If you want the Dread Wolf to take you, little one”, he said, his palms rubbing her skin wantonly, ”then know that he’s feeling honored and has decided to accept your offering,”

 

And with those words, he captured her into a kiss.

 

The touch of their lips was as passionate as it had been before, so hot that it could have scorched them both alive and left them in ashes. Fen’Harel’s right hand wandered to Numin’gra’s hair while the other squeezed her tightly by the waist. Her hands were folded behind his neck while she pressed herself to him. Fen’Harel could feel her form through the thin fabric of his shirt: her skin warm, her nipples perked. When their lips parted, forced by their instinctive need to breath, Numin’gra still brushed her lips against his.

”I am yours, Fen’Harel”, she whispered to him, playing a role, ”devour me.”

Fen’Harel grinned wolfishly, gazing her with a proud look on his face as he grabbed her by the back of her thighs.

”Rest assured, da’sa”, he promised while lifting her back onto the altar where she had orinally sat, ”I have every intention to do so.”

                      Fen’Harel attacked Numin’gra’s neck with the ferocity of a beast, biting into her skin. His own skin tingled in sensation when she gasped.

”Fen’Harel!” her voice came out as a moan.

The Dread Wolf didn’t loosen his grip on her neck, sucking on the bitemark really hard instead **.** He had waited too long for this, he had made _her_ wait too long for this. And now that he had her in his embrace, his senses made him feel intoxicated. Her sweet scent of apple blossoms, her smooth soft skin... It felt like it could be too much. Fen’Harel moved his lips back to hers and feverishly sought entrance to her mouth with his tongue. Numin’gra obliged and, while their tongues lapped wildly together, he pressed himself roughly between her spread legs, his erection hard against her folds. Her surpressed moan vibrated against his lips. Quickly, he detached them from hers only to throw his shirt off and press them together again. Numin’gra took a thick bunch of his dreadlocks in her right hand and clung to his neck with the other as if her life depended on it. Suddenly Fen’Harel slid the hand that was hidden amidst her hair just beneath her buttocks and, holding her fast with both of his arms, lifted her high enough so that her breasts were on the same level with his face. He immediately took her right nipple into his mouth with greed. Shivers ran down Fen’Harel’s spine when he heard Numin’gra moan from pleasure caused by his touch. Oh, how had he wanted this...

 _Ma haurasha_ , he thought as he moved his lips to her other nipple, _you truly taste like honey._

                      Though the moans and gasps flowed abundantly from Numin’gra’s pale lips, Fen’Harel felt unsatisfied and selfish. The ache in his member had grown to the point where pleasure started to feel like pain. He set Numin’gra down to the stone altar again while he moved his lips to suck the same spot on her neck as before. With his hands noe free, he started to unlace his pants, and one passing moment later, he raised his knees to step out of them. When he wore nothing but his black wrappings which were fitted around his legs with dark brown leather cords, he pressed himself back against Numin’gra. She was already wet when he started to rub his shaft against her folds. He fought hard to restrain himself from entering her on the spot, instead teasing her clit with the tip of his member.

”Fen’Harel ma’enansal, da’sa”, he said in a surprisingly smooth voice, ” Is ma’lenatha.”

”And I belong to him”, she gasped in answer, gazing at him with her glittering eyes but making no moves to claim him before he claimed her – surrendering.

He awarded her by pressing the tip of his member into the warmth of her flesh. Numin’gra’s breath quickened noticeably **,** but she sustained their eye contact persistently.

”As I promised you, da’sa”, Fen’Harel whispered to her ear, pressing himself an inch deeper into her, ”I will devour you.”

He moved again to draw a lust-filled moan out of her.

”I will make you mine.”

An inch.

”You will be my goddess.”

An inch.

”And I will ravish you like the beast you are”, he continued, verging his self-control, ”and like the beast I am.”

Numin’gra’s moans had turned into a tortured whimper.

”Fen’Harel ar halam”, she begged him.

Hearing her plea, the Dread Wolf gave into his desire, pushing his remaining lenght into her, and growled.

                      The fur on Numin’gra’s thighs brushed Fen’Harel’s skin when he lifted her legs against his chest. True to his own words, he took her uninhibitedly with the ferocity of a wolf, holding nothing back. Numin’gra lied on his altar, stretching her arms above her head, her back arched, and her eyes wide open. Fen’Harel hadn’t considered if his member was too large for her to take in so suddenly, but, to be honest, he didn’t care to be gentle, and telling from Numin’gra’s reactions, she didn’t even want him to be. Fen’Harel kept his pace fast from the start, their skins touching briefly between his thrusts. He groaned as he pushed his full lenght into her yet again and felt that the ecstasy of their bestial joining could really drive him mad.

                      Fen’Harel was not even near to be finished, his prowess having not been his pride for nothing, but Numin’gra was on the edge - he could tell it from her moans that came out more frequently. Noticing that, he pulled out, grabbed his vhenan to turn her around, and lifted her on her knees, helding her back tightly against his chest. Holding his left arm around her breasts and another around her waist, he penetrated her again. Fen’Harel growled as he made deep slow thrusts, drawing a pleasureful gasp from her with each one. He lowered his right hand from her waist towards her folds, his fingers seeking her clit eagerly. When he found it, Numin’gra pressed her head against his left shoulder, moaning loudly.

”Fen’Harel”, she whimpered, gasping for breath.

Knowing that she was nearly undone, he quickened his pace again, fucking her wildly, and circling one of his fingers around her clit at the same time. It didn’t take long for her to come and she did so with a cry, her body trembling.

                      The Dread Wolf bared his teeth and took Numin’gra’s exposed throath between them, careful not to bite too deep, but tightly enough to hold his vhenan where she was, preventing her from squirming during her orgasm. His finger still circled around her clit, but his pace was not so brutally fast anymore, but painfully slow instead. Numin’gra panted, her folds pulsing around his member. Fen’Harel continued to fuck her all the way through her orgasm and when it passed – her breath noticeably steadying – he released her throat, allowing her to rise her head, and corrected their positions in favor of himself. Keeping his shaft still inside her, he crossed his arms across her chest, grabbing both of her breasts, and continued.

                      Joined gasps and moans echoed through the forest, letting the pleasure of the lovers be heard throughout it. Although this was their joined conscious dream they experienced in the Fade, it didn’t diminish the intimacy or the reality of their lovemaking. Fen’Harel kept his head hanging backwards, gazing to the sky, while Numin’gra rested her head on his chest with her eyes closed. They both breathed deeply, enjoying the feeling of their equally soaring arousal. Fen’Harel’s thrusts had been steady for a while, but now that he was near too, he increased his speed, holding his vhenan even tighter against him than before, pinching her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. He groaned and grit his teeth together while leading them both to ecstasy.

Fen’Harel came with a mighty roar, his own voice mixed in the cry of Numin’gra - both of them spent and covered in sweat, but utterly satisfied. The Dread Wolf gasped to regain his breath and lowered his chin to the top of his beloved’s head.

”I haven’t asked you”, he began his question, panting, ”by which name do I call you here?”

Numin’gra panted too, but she managed to gather enough breath to answer him.

”Call me by the same name as everyone else does, ma solas’fen”, she said, her voice wavering, ”it was risky to say otherwise even once and should anyone hear...”

”Shh”, Fen’Harel shushed her, ”say no more, vhenan.”

 

After that the lovers said little else, losing themselves into the sensuality of their closeness – and each other.

 

**Elvish translations for this chapter:**

_Ma serannas_ : Thank you

 _Ma haurasha:_ my honey

 _Fen'Harel ma’enansal,_ _da’sa, Is ma’lenatha_ : The Dread Wolf blesses you, little one, he adores you

 _Fen’Harel ar halam:_ Fen’Harel, finish me


	9. The Wolf's decision

When the Dread Wolf opened his eyes, his head rested against the cold stone of the cavefloor instead of red warm fur. He raised his head quickly, alarmed **,** but calmed down when he spotted Numin’gra standing at the cave entrance with the rays of the sun caressing her features. The great white wolf rose to his feet, stretched, and yawned before padding to his mate. The female held her head high, her ears pointing sharply upwards. Her golden eyes were directed towards Skyhold. Fen’Harel glanced at her briefly, but soon he followed her example and pricked up his ears. To his surprise, everything was quiet: no birds, no animals... Just the ominous silence that had wrapped the forest in its cold embrace. The white wolf took a couple of assertive steps forward. Something was wrong. Whatever it was, it hadn’t happened yet, but it was there. An unpleasant premonition crept to Fen’Harel’s mind. He gazed Numin’gra again and huffed meaningfully.

_We must go,_ he decided _, now._

As if hearing his thoughts, Numin’gra raised her right front paw off the ground as an answer, and, without giving it another thought, both of them sprinted out of their shelter with the white male taking the lead and spurring them both to run at an immense speed. If what he suspected was true, they would absolutely have no time to loose.

 

And while they made haste back to Skyhold, a distant rumble was heard from the south as the sky started to grow dark.

 

_Corypheus._

 

***

 

Two wolves ran by the old walls that had protected the fortress since the early days of Ferelden. Reaching the last corner before the gate, Fen’Harel slowed his pace to transform back into himself. Having run past him, the red female stopped, waiting for him to catch up. Fen’Harel straightened himself, brushed a short stray hair off his forehead, and began to determinedly stride forward, still keeping close to the stone wall. Numin’gra joined him as she started to trot beside him when he reached her. They kept up a brisk pace to reach the gates as quickly as possible. Running would have been even faster, of course, but the Trickster deemed it wiser to approach the base of the Inquisition in a less threatening manner, and his vhenan chose to stand by him. He had no idea how the others would react to their return, especially his. To them, he wasn’t Solas anymore, but an unknown mage who would have _a lot_ of explaining to do. One thing he could rely on, however, was that at least they wouldn’t kill him on sight. That wasn’t the Inquisition’s way, hadn’t been from the very start – all thanks to Fen’lath’s exemplary leadership. And if he was right about what was to come... They would need to act – and _fast_. 

                      When the guards stationed on the top of the gate made their arrival known to everyone in the vicinity, the clanking of armor reached the lovers’ ears before they even got a peek of Skyhold’s courtyard. Soldiers had formed a path before them and, with their hands on their swords **,** they were ready to react to any sudden movement. Fen’Harel wasn’t so easily intimidated, neither was Numin’gra. Even though his clothes were ragged and dirty, the elvhen god held his head proudly high. His vhenan, on the other hand, held her head a bit low, glared at every soldier with her feral golden eyes, and signaled her confidence with her raised tail. Her posture made the soldiers obviously nervous **,** which made an amused grin spread across Fen’Harel’s face. These soldiers had been there when the Inquisition had purged demons from Adamant fortress. They had been there when a major Venatori force had been crushed in the Arbor Wilds. And now that they were supposed to keep an eye on their own leader and an apostate... they hesitated. Perhaps the poor fools assumed them to be possessed, or worse – demons. Whatever the truth may have been, the whole irony of the situation made Fen’Harel smirk.

_Do you truly dread us so?_  he nearly laughed aloud, _how quaint._

Before Fen’Harel or Numin’gra got to reach the upper courtyard, Cassandra appeared at the top of the stairs which they were ascending.

”Stop right there, ’Solas’”, she ordered, her arms folded across her chest.

”To whom you might be referring to, Seeker?” Fen’Harel inquired, raising his eyesbrows and smiling wickedly, unable to hide his amusement any longer, ”there’s no-one who goes by that name here.”

”Don’t play smartass with me, apostate!” she snapped, ”you are now under the watchful eye of the Inquisition.”

_How dramatic._

”Who are afraid of their own leader?” the Trickster scoffed, spreading his arms wide as a statement.

”You have no proof whether that beast even _is_ who you claim it to be or not!”

Fen’Harel felt incredulous, but didn’t let it show.

_Are they truly that quick to deny something what they already have accepted as truth once?_ he wondered.

When Fen’Harel was about make an argument of his own, an unfamiliar voice intervened their discussion.

”She is what he claims her to be, my friend.”

                      The voice belonged to an old female elf whose skin was tanned by the sun. Her raven black hair had almost turned entirely grey with only a few strands of their original colour remaining. Her face, however, had no wrinkles on them which made Fen’Harel suspect that she was far older than one might have thought her to be. He also was pretty sure that he knew who the stranger was.

_I wonder..._

”Keeper Deshanna Istimaethoriel”, his statement was also half a question.

”You presume correctly, Tishan”, the woman bowed her head slightly in reverence.

_”Tishan”_? Fen’Harel repeated in his mind, _now there’s one title I haven’t heard being used of me in a very, very long time._

He nodded to the keeper both in greeting and in thanks.

”It’s good to see that you survived the events of Wycome. In fact, I was hoping that you would.”

The grace which shone from Fen’Harel that very moment indicated that he had completely dropped the role of some wandering apostate and assumed back his true identity as the god of rebellion. The keeper of Clan Lavellan smiled warmly and gave him a slight nod.

”I thank you for you thoughtfulness”, she thanked him before turning to crouch infront of the red wolf that had padded to her , ”and of course for saving my granddaughter.”

_Ah, so I guessed correctly._

”And I must apologize”, Cassandra cut in, having listened to their discussion, but apparently not having catched the word ’granddaughter’, ”one cannot be too cautious, especially when I nor others here don’t know your real name.”

Hearing her words, Fen’Harel shared a pondering look with Deshanna who was now caressing Numin’gra’s cheek. The wolf closed her eyes as she pressed her head affectionately against her grandmother’s hand.

”His name is Fen’Harel”, the keeper aswered, still gazing at the elvhen man, ”and he is one of the elven gods.”

As the keeper of Clan Lavellan turned back to Numin’gra, the Dread Wolf had to surpress an upcoming chuckle **.** The expression that spread across the Seeker’s face was priceless as the plain answer the keeper gave her had left her completely baffled. While she struggled for words, quick footsteps started to stomp on the battlements, The Inquisition’s commander made haste down the stairs and onto the courtyard.

”Cassandra!” Cullen voice came now from near the sparring ring located in the middle of the upper courtyard.

”I’m here, commander!” the Seeker called out back to him.

After a moment of disorientation the former templar located the direction where her voice came from and then ran straight to her.

”A raven arrived from one of our scouts stationed near Haven”, he reported, catching his breath, ”he’s heading this way!”

Cassandra’s brow furrowed.

” _Wh_ o’s heading this way?” 

The commander didn’t have time to answer her as the ground started to shake. Right then, Numin’gra opened her eyes, nearly jumped to her feet, and ran deeper into the upper courtyard, raising her gaze towards south. Fen’Harel followed her example after regaining his balance, and so did everyone else **.** A bright pillar of green light shoot upwards and began to tear open the sky.

”He’s creating a new breach!” Cullen exclaimed.

Cassandra turned to look at him in horror.

”Do you mean...?” she didn’t even dare to say it aloud.

”It’s Corypheus”, Fen’Harel grimaced, his brow furrowing with a mix of concern and anger.

The Seeker looked at him first and then at the red wolf who had started to growl.

”Can the Inquisitor use her mark?” she asked, turning back to him.

Fen’Harel’s gaze dropped for a short moment before he turned to look at his vhenan.

”In some manner, yes”, he replied , ”but I don’t think she’s able to close the breach this time, not to mention battling Corypheus.”

The growling stopped as Numin’gra turned her head towards him. With her ears put back, she gazed at him sadly and whined. Fen’Harel’s expression softened immediately at the sight of her apologizing gesture.

”It’s alright, vhenan”, he consoled her, ”we’ll think of something.”

_And I already know what I must do,_ he added silently.

”We have already started to gather our forces”, Cullen stated, ”our agent said that Corypheus had only a handful of Venatori with him, but we must be prepared for surprises.”

”We should send a small force ahead of our army to reach the site sooner”, Cassandra made an argument, ”I can lead them.”

”What can a small force do to a dragon flying somewhere out there?” the commander snapped, pointing towards south with his right hand.

”They can do better than nothing!”

As the two carried on, the rings in Fen’Harel’s hair clinked when he took two quick steps forward. The quarrel between the commander and the Seeker stopped when he turned his head to look back and raised his voice.

”Do what you must”, he told them, ”if there are more Venatori left, they must be eliminated.”

”Where are you going?” Cassandra asked him in surprise.

”I’m going to fix one of my greatest mistakes.”

Numin’gra tried to hurry to him, guessing his intentions, but keeper Deshanna, who had stood relatively close to her, grabbed her by the neck. Perhaps she had guessed his intentions as well. The red wolf winced, but the keeper held her ground with her, looking at the god of rebellion knowingly. Fen’Harel gazed his vhenan sadly.

”Farewell, vhenan, beacuse of you I don’t have to hunt alone anymore”, he said to her with a tear glimmering in the corner of his eye, ”ar lath ma, ma uth’uvun.”

Numin’gra whined loudly, her eyes flashing in a shade of green.

” _Don’t go, ma lath”,_ Fen’Harel heard her plea in his head.

He smiled to her one last time before he turned to speak to the keeper.

”Make sure she stays safe”, he told her.

”I will”, the old elf promised, ”Dareth Shiral, Tishan.”

As Fen’Harel turned to head towards the gates, Cassandra’s voice made him stay for a moment longer.

”Stop!” she tried to give him an order, ”you don’t even have armor to protect you!”

_Very true_ , he thought as he turned his head to glance back one more time and flashed his jauntiest smirk at the Seeker.

”I don’t need one.”

 

With that said, Fen’Harel dashed towards the gates, his vhenan’s miserable wailing echoing behind him. He didn’t look back because he knew that it would shatter him. Instead he spurred himself to run even faster, putting on a display more grand than last time he had left Skyhold to chase after Numin’gra. Fen’Harel disappeared into a cloud of black smoke as he had done so many times before, and when it dissipated, an unusually large black wolf with six ruby-like eyes leapt into the air. Landing on the lower courtyard, the Dread Wolf soon sprinted though the Skyhold’s gates and headed south towards the ruins of Haven and the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Still, a sorrowful howl reached him and rang in his ears.

_Ir abelas, ma sa’lath,_ he though, his beloved’s voice shaking his pounding heart, _ar rya Shivana._

 

Since waking from uthenera, Fen’Harel’s mind had lingered on the fall of Elvhenan he had caused and that he had a duty to the Elvhen. His love for Fen’lath had made him abandon that, but it hadn’t washed away the guilt completely **.** Now he realised, however, that he could make amends after all **:** maybe he couldn’t save his own world from destruction but he could save this one - and help to make something new and better for hanal’ghilanis and other elves alike.

 

**Elvish translations for this chapter:**

_Tishan_ : My lord

_Dareth Shiral, Tishan_ : Safe journey, my lord

_Ir abelas, ma sa’lath, ar rya Shivana:_ I’m sorry, my only love, (but) I must do my duty


	10. The final battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that this chapter contains some graphic depictions of violence.

Small stones bounced off the ground as it started to shake again. Despite it was barely midday, the sunlight was absent as dark clouds floated among the greens swirl that had taken control of the sky. A pitch-black figure raced forward amidst the mix of dim lights and shadows, its paws drumming the ground almost silently. The Dread Wolf already had his eyes on the first Venatori soldiers who were guarding the road to the north. They had propably gotten a small hint of his arrival but hadn’t truly noticed him yet. When he got close enough to the group of gladiators, he silently leapt through the air and landed right on the back of one the soldiers, grabbing the poor bastard’s head between his jaws and ripping it clear off. The remaining four gladiators turned to face the new threath, but their human eyes were not as accustomed to murky circumstances like those of the wolf, and the only thing they could see clearly was the sinister gaze of six red eyes. Fen’Harel was only a dark shadow amidst the eclipse, his teeth so sharp that they nearly pierced the armors of the Venatori with just a slash. He locked his jaws around one soldier’s leg, throwing the man screaming through the air. Another man who had stood nearby tried to hit his comrade’s attacker with his sword, but to no avail. When the Dread Wolf caught him, there was no way to escape. As the man’s spine snapped loudly, the remaining gladiators started to fearfully observe their enviroment, but the last thing they knew before their deaths were upon them, was the low menacing growl of the Bringer of Nightmares.

                      With no more guards remaining, Fen’Harel started to rush down the road towards Haven. When he got there, he finded only charred remains of collapsed buildings, shattered trebuchets, and the village’s half-fallen palisade. No Venatori, no Corypheus and...

_No dragon, yet,_ the Dread Wolf though to himself, keeping a watchful eye on the dark greenish sky.

The ancient magister was tearing the Veil open again with obvious impatience as the new breach had gotten noticeably bigger in a short time. Fen’Harel held his breath, letting his gaze wander around the sad view of what used to be the base of the young Inquisition. There was no point for him to linger here as there was no-one to be seen. Perhaps... The ground shook again, and the black wolf spread his legs to a more wide position to hold his ground better. He gazed to the sky and saw the green pillar rising again.

_The Temple of Sacred Ashes_ , he realised, _so there you are - again._

On that instant the Dread Wolf turned towards the ruins among which Fen’lath was originally found months ago with his mark on her hand – and, upon seeing her, also with his heart in chains **.** With the image of her in his mind, he thought to be hearing the wailing of his vhenan again.

_I will come back to you, vhenan’ara_ , he promised in his mind and sprinted towards the temple ruins which suddenly looked like as if they were trying to soar **.**

 

Corypheus stood infront of a structure that used to be the great front door of the Temple of Sacred Ashes, holding the orb in his right hand and staring eerily at the Inquisition agents who stood before him. Fen’Harel saw how the ancient magister spread his hands and, unleashing a spell with a red blast, called forward terrors which started to lurk hungrily towards the agents who were still scrambling to their feet and trying to reach for their weapons.

_You wish._

The Dread Wolf dashed and leapt through the air, his red eyes glimmering, and landed between the agents and the demons. He took one of the latters between his jaws and, terrors being rather slim in build, snapped it easily in half. Turning his head, he saw one of them trying to slash one of the Inquisition’s agents with its claws. Luckily, his intervention had given the agents some time to prepare and grab their swords, and the demon met its swift and gruesome end in the hands off its intended target **.** Only one terror was still standing. As Fen’Harel saw it approaching him, he turned to face it and attacked. While he got a hold of the demon’s head, it managed to claw him on his left cheek. Ignoring the pain, he stood his ground and squeezed the demon’s head until it popped like a wooden cork. Fen’Harel dropped the body from his jaws and gazed around. The agents stood behind him, holding their distance, but, realising that the nightmarish beast they saw had infact helped them, didn’t attack him. Seeing that they were safe, he turned to face Corypheus who stood on the same spot as before with an astounded expression on his face. The black wolf started to pad towards the ancient magister with his head kept low. He didn’t attack his foe, thought, instead transforming back into the elvhen he really was. Fen’Harel’s golden eyes gleamed with fury, his brow furrowing and three scratches made by the terror’s talons on his left cheek.

”This farce ends now, magister”, he snarled, ”hand over what you stole from me!”

As was to be expected, his command was declined with a manical laugh.

”’Stole from you’?” Corypheus repeated, his unnatural voice echoing like the void itself, ”if I remember correctly, it was found from an ancient temple near the eastern border of the Imperium. I have stolen _nothing_ from you, rattus.”

”You found the orb because I wanted so”, Fen’Harel told him, his voice firm, ”and I made a miscalculation when I thought that opening it would surely destroy you.”

”Is that so? And what does that make you?” 

”The one who was foolish enough to give his own foci to a madman and must now fix his own mistake.”

Corypheus laughed again, this time ominously with a low voice.

”No, rattus, it only makes you one very dead false god.”

                      The magister raised his hand in which he held the orb. It started to glow red as he drew strength from it to empower his spell.

”Fall back!” Fen’Harel heard one the agent’s behind him command the others.

He himself leaped backwards into the air just before a swirling electric blast hit him, taking his wolf form before he landed, and, with his paws catching ground again and with his teeth bared and growling, surged forward. He didn’t reach his foe, however, as Corypheus had already teleported himself to a balcony above the door, raising both of his hands high to sky.

”You made a mistake when you revealed yourself to me, Fen’Harel”, he shouted, ”now we shall see who’s the only true god here!”

                      The ground started to shake again, this time more violently than before. Fen’Harel felt his stomach churn mildly as he stood his ground once again while the whole temple started to soar to the skies like in Arlathan of old. Once the movement  and the rumble caused by falling stones stopped, a mighty roar traveled fast across the sky. The Wolf fixed its six red eyes to the lyrium dragon that drew ever closer to the temple. His muscles flexed, ready to evade the beast’s incoming attack, but soon he heard something that partly drew his attention: a roar, much like the one of the lyrium dragon. Fen’Harel saw that the sound had drawn the attention of Corypheus too. As they both eyed the direction from which the dragon was coming from, they saw two more figures, both of them gleaming like purple lights on the sky. And when the lyrium-haggarded beast held out its huge claws, ready to strike and shred its target to pieces, it was stricken twice: first from its left and then from its right. Two more dragons, of which the bigger one Fen’Harel knew well, had appeared to the scene.

_Mythal_ , he though, smiling inwardly, _ma serannas, lethallan._

And without a second thought he surged forward again, this time his eyes keen on the magister who was still standing of the balcony.

_Halam sahlin._

While the three dragons battled in the sky, one of them outnumbered, the Dread Wolf reached the balcony and attacked jaws wide towards the darkspawn magister, uncaring for whether he would shatter his orb in the process or not. Although, truth be told, a lifeline had come to his mind, and it relied partly on the chance that the orb would survive. Fen’Harel aimed straight for the jugular of his foe, but Corypheus warded him off with a spell that greatly resembled mind blast and vanished. Having being thrown backwards, the Dread Wolf scrambled back to his legs and started to furiously search for the magister with his gaze. The three dragons flew low over him with a whoosh. The two purple ones shredded the red lyrium dragon with their teeth and claws, the latter being clearly at a disadvantage. Corypheus’ minion would be finished soon like its master.  

                      Fen’Harel ran up a set of stairs leading to a platform that used to be the second level of the temple. The magister was already there, waiting for him. He slowed his pace to casual-like padding, crouched a bit, and ruffled his neckfur. A menacing growl emanated from his throat, his eyes blazing like red fire. His foe, however, stood confidently within a few feet of him with a peculiar grin on his distorted face.

”So you’re the one to whom Tevinter owes all of its glory”, Corypheus mocked him, ”you played a major part in the fall of the Elven empire, which gave us a direct access to an abundant supply of slaves.”

Fen’Harel felt a painful sting in his heart but struggled not to let it show. He had thought of the consequences of his actions over and over again in his mind during the past year, and the sting wasn’t as bad as it could have been some time ago. Still, hearing it put in the way Corypheus just did, it hurt like hell. But more than hurt, Fen’Harel felt anger seething within himself. He had to restrain himself from attacking in blind rage because that would have ruined his plan and every chance for winning the fight with it. Instead of attacking, the Wolf settled for deepening his growl.

”I wonder”, Corypheus continued, trying to irritate him further, ”what would your people do to you if they got their hands on you? I heard that you banished the other gods of your kin beyond the Veil, maybe you would like to join them?”

                      The orb glew red again as a ray of corrupted magic erupted from it. The Dread Wolf evaded it with a jump to his right and dashed towards his enemy. The ray followed him as Corypheus wielded the foci. When he got close to the darkspawn magister, another ray was released and it hit him right to his forehead. Fen’Harel yelped as he was thrown back. His own orb’s magic couldn’t harm him, but Corypheus’ spell empowered by the raw power brought by the red lyrium... The Black Wolf hit the temple floor with a thud. With his right side aching from the impact, he rose to his feet as quickly as possible, but the magister was already gone. Mustering his strenght, Fen’Harel dashed forward again to continue his pursuit.

_Play as you want, magister,_ he swore, _I will have your head to end this madness – and give my own if needed to._

                      Fen’Harel halted at the top of the second flight of stairs. He heard a painful shriek before the massive body of the lyrium dragon hit the ground, making stones and dust to fly all around it. A second dragon flew over it, roaring. Then the third one appeared, its horn curled and pointing up like those of a qunari. It landed on the lyrium dragon and grabbed it by the neck, making the tormented beast shriek again in agony. The huge purple dragon saw the Dread Wolf who was now standing under the stone doorway, but did little else because it would have given its adversary a chance to break free. How Mythal had known to come here and help him, he did not know, but what he knew was that the Protector had her ways and he didn’t have time to ask her.

Fen’Harel’s paws started to silently drum the ground when he sprinted towards the last flight of stairs. He instinctively lowered his head when the smaller purple dragon descended upon the lyrium dragon to aid Mythal. He suspected the smaller one to be a certain witch who drank so greedily from the Well and would certainly get a confirmation on the matter when the battle was over – if he lived that long. Fen’Harel had confidence in his own abilities and all, but one never knows if there had been miscalculations before they happened or they didn’t. As cocky as the Dread Wolf sometimes was by nature, the wailing of his vhenan that had rang in his ears before Corypheus showed up... That reminded him that there was someone waiting for him. But even if the worst happened, at least his greatest fear wouldn’t be true anymore. And with every thought and memory that gave him strenght and determination to go on, the Wolf continued his chase **.**

                      The new breach was nearly complete. Corypheus stood on a platform surrounded by arches. It was the last of the temple pieces that floated in the air. Fen’Harel leapt down from a ledge and padded towards him, merging into the darkness like a shadow. The magister must have noticed his arrival, or at least anticipated it, but didn’t seem to care as he was too focused on the orb which now hovered in the air with red lightnings circling around it. Fen’Harel knew that he should act as quickly as possible, but also to calculate his actions carefully so that there wouldn’t be any ill-considered decisions that could lead to his swift defeat. He assumed his true form and started to ascend the steps before him with a determined look on his face, his eyes gleaming.

”You’re here just in time to see my ascension to the Heavens _, god of rebellion_ ”, Corypheus spoke suddenly, putting a particularly mocking weight on Fen’Harel’s title, ”I shall give my regards to your kin.”

”I will see nothing but your defeat, magister”, the Dread Wolf replied, forming a protective barrier around himself as he spoke, ”you’re no better than the Evanuris!”

”And who are you to judge me? _You_ were one of them and left your homeland in shambles, whereas _I_ will return Tevinter to its former glory and soon everyone will bow to me and say their prayers in the name of the Elder One!”

                      Instead of paying attention to the ramblings of the darkspawn magister, Fen’Harel concentrated on the stirring he felt in his mana. With the Veil being thin and nearly torn open, his connection to the Fade got stronger along with his powers. He smirked in satisfaction as he had hoped for this. While Corypheus continued his speech, waiting impatiently for his spell to be finished, Fen’Harel created one of his own. He closed his eyes and focused intensely, commemorating all the magical wonders he had been capable of in Arlathan’s days of glory. Those spells that took even several days or more to perform, the magic that was as natural as breathing and passionate as love.

_Ah, Arlathan_ ¸he thought wistfully before opening his eyes and spread out his hands, conjuring blue flames on each of them.

Seeing that the darkspawn magister had his attention still focused on other matters, Fen’Harel held out his hands and unleashed two blue horizontal pillars of flames which entwined together and hit true to their target. Corypheus let out an enfuriated roar when he was sent flying backwards and away from the orb. The lightnings started to dissappear from around it as the magister’s spell slowly faded away.

 

It was time to act.

 

Fen’Harel didn’t waste any time but seized his opportunity as he fade-stepped and grapped his foci. It was hot to touch, but he held it gently with both of his hands and cooled it down with soothing frost. As the orb started to glow green, he felt his barrier grow stronger as did his powers, and the breach in the sky immediately began to shrink. When Fen’Harel saw Corypheus scrambling to his feet and aiming him with a spell, he didn’t bother to ward off the incoming attack, letting it to shatter against his barrier instead. The Trickster smirked in self-satisfaction when he saw that the magister’s spell hadn’t even made a crack on it. Then he stretched out his arms forward again, his palms forming a cup for the orb and maintained his smirk when he turned his gaze to Corypheus who stood a few feet away from him - leery yet ready to attack again.

_Are you scared yet, magister?_ Fen’Harel thought, closing his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, they shined brightly like two diamonds, y _ou should be._

                     A green pillar of light descended on Corypheus and started to swirl around him like a greedy wildfire. It started to burn him alive, making him scream in agony and charring his ragged robes. The pillar dissipated as it adapted to his form, squeezing him more tightly than before, and a small rift started to form around him. The Dread Wolf watched Corypheus’ face distort from pain so intense that it wasn’t known to him or anyone else before and wondered if he should let his foe suffer a little longer or to be finished as quickly as possible. After a short moment, he decided.

”We’re not alike at all, magister”, Fen’Harel said mostly to himself but then raised his voice to make sure he was heard, ”I hold you to the promise that you give your regards to Elgar’nan and others, as well as mine!”

The rift that was forming around Corypheus started to grow immensily, and only a suffocated echo of his cries of pain was left when it engulfed him into the Fade like a hungry beast and snapped shut.

 

With the magister gone from the world, the sky was healed again, and the ancient evil that had threatened all of Thedas was vanquished. 

 

**Elvish translations for this chapter:**

_Halam sahlin:_ This ends now


	11. An old friend

The pieces of the remnants of the Temple of the Sacred Ashes started to slowly descend to the ground again, landing on the very spot they used used to be on. With that done, the glow in Fen’Harel’s eyes faded away as he sank to his knees, still holding the orb in his hands. He gasped for breath, finally letting the exertion from the battle wash over him. His cheek was scratched and his right side hurt as if a rib had been broken, but aside from that, he was fine, and when he gazed to the clearing sky, he thought that every scar and injury he had gotten was worth it.

_It is done,Vhenan,_ Fen’Harel though, smiling, _now I can return to you and hold you in my arms._

                      But the god of rebellion couldn’t leave yet. He hadn’t only gazed to the sky to see if the new breach was completely gone. He waited for a shadow to appear, and after a while, it did. The figure of a huge dragon concealed the sun while flying past it and landed near the arch by which the Dread Wolf sat. The creature started to glow and vanished into a cloud of pure stardust out of which walked out an old woman with eyes of nearly the same shade as those of Fen’Harel, if only a bit lighter. Her silver grey hair was combed back to resemble horns, and she wore an armor that was of the same shade as the scales of the dragon. Fen’Harel stood up though wincing from the sting he felt in his right side **.** He stubbornly straightened his back before he smiled and bowed his head in greeting.

” _Lethallan_ ”, he greeted Mythal, ”I shouldn’t be surprised to find you here, yet I must admit that I am a bit.”

”One doesn’t get to see a six-eyed wolf roaming the land everyday, Dread Wolf”, she pointed out, sounding enigmatic as she nearly always did, ”that and of course the green pillar tearing open the sky.”

”One doesn’t see an epic battle of three dragons everyday either.”

”Well. what can I say? My Morrigan has turned so obedient now after drinking from the vir’abelasan.”

_So she **is**_ _one Mythal’s daughters_ ¸ Fen’Harel though, remembering the tales he had heard about the goddess’ more recent history, but said nothing about it.

”So I guessed correctly”, he stated instead, ”the witch was with you.”

”Witch, mage or goddess, what does it matter? I’m all of those things, but I’m also a very, _very_ old woman. I have done so much in my life that it’s only fair that I can ask some help from time to time myself, isn’t it?”   

”True enough”, Fen’Harel chuckled.

Mythal smiled at him before she fixed her gaze on the side he was holding now with both of his palms.

”You’re injured”, she noted, changing the course of their conversation, ”let me heal you.”

”There’s no need, I can do it myself.”

Mythal laughed with a deep voice.

”Always so stubborn”, she said in amusement while tapping her chin with her right forefinger pensively, ”how does the red wolf react to that quality of yours, I wonder?”

Fen’Harel though that his mind must have been muddled by bloodloss, internal bleeding, or something like that because he found himself wondering again how Mythal had known of Fen’lath although he knew better than to question that at all.

”How do you...?” he began but then held his tongue and shook his head.

He looked drained as dark circles had formed under his eyes and his face had gotten a bit pale.

”I would be honored to have my wounds healed by you, lethallan.”

                      With Fen’Harel’s consent, Mythal lifted the hem of his shirt and pressed her palms to his side to examine the damage with her magic. Even though her touch was gentle and she barely pressed the skin that had started to bruise, it made the Dread Wolf bite his lip and grimace.

”Now now”, Mythal soothed him as she determined the graveness of his injury and began to heal it, ”the pain will pass as always, Dread Wolf, but how are you feeling besides that, hmm?”

Fen’Harel gasped for breath as the pain started to slowly fade away. 

”I’m glad that the battle is over”, he replied, ”Corypheus was completely mad, and what a fool was I to give my orb to him to begin with **.”**

”I agree, you should have waited for your own powers to return. But instead, you chose to be impatient as if you were a young lad in love”, Mythal scolded him though her voice was soft.

”Compared to your years, I _am_ a young lad in love”, the Trickster chuckled, but soon his face turned serious as he continued: ”And because of that, I was afraid - afraid that my beloved would be left alone in this world, all because of my foolish actions, as always.”

                     And once again as so many times before, Fen’Harel felt ashamed. But it wasn’t because he created the Veil nor because the fall of Elvhenan. He felt ashamed that he was ready to shatter his beloved’s heart, and for what? To be like Corypheus? A madman thinking only about the past with his hand on the handle of the door to godhood? Fen’Harel had already been proclaimed a god once, but since those days, he had lost most of his powers, both influential and magical. He had sacrifised much during the long years of his life in his attemps to help the People - attempts now twisted in the stories of the dalish. But the hanal’ghilanis seemed to know the truth, so perhaps all of it was not lost, and with his foci now back in his hands... Fen’Harel shuddered at the thought of what he might have done with its power had the things gone differently. If he had destroyed this world in his pursuit of creating a new empire of Elvhenan, with he himself in its lead, sitting alone in his throne... Then  the rumours of him having gaggled madly in glee somewhere might have been very true. Luckily for him, the things were different, and in this very moment, he was extremely grateful of it.  

                     Seeing that the Trickster was deep in his thoughts yet again, Mythal silently continued to work on his wounds. But when she reached for the scratches on his left cheek, he flinched and grabbed her hand.

”Please don’t”, Fen’Harel said to her, pressing her hand down slowly, ”I need them as a reminder of what I nearly became – and who I am now.”

Mythal smiled to him and pressed her warm palms on his shoulders.             

”I was ready to give my powers to aid you in achieving your goal, but I realise now that your heart has a new destination”, she told him, ”of which I am very glad, for you both.”

Fen’Harel returned her smile as a thankyou for her words that warmed him from within.

”And where does your destination lie now, lethallan?” he asked her in turn, curious for the answer.

”New situations allow new actions, don’t they, Wolf? Morrigan will remain here in my stead and guide Abelas and the others to a new path whereas _I_ will go somewhere where my soul will find justice denied from it for so long. But first, I shall escort you back to Tarasy’lan Te’las.”

”’Justice denied?’ Are you going to...?”

Mythal nodded and left Fen’Harel completely surprised.

”I shall seek vengeance upon those who took my life so many years ago to chase after their own benefits”, she said as she smirked, her face wrinkling, ”and I shall make sure that your regards are heard as well. Now, shall we go?”

The Dread Wolf gave her a flat, weary smile. He was feeling too exhausted to argue with Mythal about the rationality of her intentions. Knowing also that she couldn’t be swayed, he just nodded his consent.

”Lead on, ma falon”, he told her, ”and may you find compensation for the injustice done to you.”

 

After a short while, a pitch-black wolf could be seen racing up the path to the north with an orb in its mouth while a purple dragon flew over it in the sky. On their journey, they passed a small armed force led by Cassandra and a smalled group of mages led by Vivienne and Fiona. Both groups were undoubtedly tempted to turn back to follow them, but this time duty came first and, they continued onwards as the Protector escorted the Trickster back to the fortress in the mountains which was now, as every place where his vhenan would be, his lath’an.  

 

**Elvish translations for this chapter:**

_vir’abelasan:_ Well of Sorrows

_lath’an_ : place of love


	12. A hero's welcome

The guards stationed on the battlements saw only shades of purple glistening in the rays of the sun before they were nearly thrown off their balance by the air current that followed. The huge dragon that swooped over Skyhold let out a roar before soaring back high into the sky. The Dread Wolf had also reached the gates and, dropping the orb he had carried to the ground, turned to stare to sky as his long-time friend continued her journey towards the north.

_Ma serannas, ma falon, may we meet again someday_ , he though before a familiar sound got his wrapped attention.

Numin’gra ran towards him, whining worriedly. When she reached him, she pressed her head against his neck and started to lick his fur, still whining. In fact, it sounded as if she was crying.

”He’s back!” Fen’Harel heard someone announce from the wall and soon he heard another voice and then another, but the voice of Numin’gra was the only one he cared about.

_It’s alright, da’sa_ , he thought as he licked her fur soothingly in return, _I’m here now._

                      The red female chuffed just below the Dread Wolf’s ear, bucked him with her head, and backed down to face him directly. A bustling crowd started to gather nearer to the wolves who now stared each other from eye to eye. And right then, Fen’Harel saw something glimmering in the corners of Numing’ra’s eyes. He watched her close her eyes as actual tears started to fall from them. Eventually, her tears turned golden and dissipated into dust when they were supposed to fall to the ground. The Dread Wolf cocked his head with curiosity.

_Is this her... changing?_ he wondered.

And indeed it was.

                      The crowd standing by the gates murmured shortly as they saw how the golden dust started to swirl around the red wolf and finally covered her with a hazy cloud. Fen’Harel inspected the sight with intrigue as well as impatience. When the dust finally vanished, his waiting was rewarded as Fen’lath stood before him again. Something had changed though, and it wasn’t just her clothes that had somehow gotten ragged: her eye color wasn’t forest green anymore but golden like in the Fade – a shade typical to the ancient elvhen. Fen’Harel felt his heart flutter at the sight of her – as Mythal had said, he definitely was - and felt to be - like a young lad in love. And the truth to be told, he had never been thrown into it so deeply before.

Fen’lath shook her head and gasped as if she was just newly born and got to inhale fresh air for the first time in her life. Then she turned her gaze to the nightmarish wolf infront of her and smiled.

”Ma solas’fen”, she said softly and pressed her palms to the wolf’s cheeks, ” itha ma vegara Tua mir vhenan numal numin’nehn.”

Fen’Harel chuffed before he, too, vanished into a cloud of smoke, and as Fen’lath had lowered her hands off him, delicate elvhen hands grasped them back.

”Vhenan”, he said with their hands parting again as he couldn’t resist the urge to hold her in his arms, ”I’m sorry for the pain and worry I’ve caused you, ma uth’lath. I’m here now and won’t leave you by my own will ever again.”

                                   One might think that no-one would be foolish enough to shatter a moment like that between the two lovers, but alas, there was one who didn’t have a tendency to keep his mouth shut.

” Fela!” a familiar cry travelled fast over all other voices while a man rushed through the crowd with the ferocity of a bolting druffalo. 

_Dorian._

                      Everyone knew the Tevinter mage to be rather brash and all, but this time he actually shoved some of them off his way. Fen’Harel had barely time to let go of his vhenan so that she could turn around to face the incoming hug and he could save the orb from the one man stampede. Dorian squeezed Fen’lath as if she had been gone forever.

”I’m glad you’re back, my brisky heroine!” he said, still holding her in his bear-like embrace.

”You speak as if I have just returned from the Hissing Wastes, Dorian”, she laughed.

”You know what I mean. I loved your soft fur and all but I like you this way better. A wolf isn’t much of conversation partner.”

And when the mage finally let his hold on the Inquisitor loosen a bit, seeing her face properly, he added: ” _My god_! What’s happened to your eyes?”

                      As it was rather complicated to try to answer the presented question without revealing too much of the truth, Fen’lath seemed to struggle for a proper answer. Noticing that, Fen’Harel stepped forward so that he saw both her and Dorian better-

”I have a suspicion”, he began his statement, ”if I may?”

Seeing that he was gazing at her, asking for her permission, his vhenan nodded and gave him a relieved half-smile.

”All elves descent from the ancient elvhen”, Fen’Harel began with a scholarly expression on his face and his hands folded behind his back, ”our kind is resistant to possession, and shapeshifting against one’s own will is very similar to it. So in order for Fen’lath to change back to herself, the elvhen blood concealed in her veins activated and dispelled the wolf, as it were.”

_And draw another wolf in,_ he added in his mind but resisted the upcoming smirk this time.

”And what does it have to do with the changing of her eye color?” Dorian asked, tapping his right cheek with one finger.

”It’s simply a side effect. The golden color was very common in the times of Artlathan as green is common among the dalish nowadays. Whatever the way her transformation happened, it also altered her eye color in the process. The elvhen magic is very old, so when it suddenly takes action, it is no wonder that it does something like this.”

Dorian listened to him, weighing his answer **,** and finally let his posture relax as he made his decision.

”Maybe you’re right, Sol... Oh, silly me, _Fen’Harel_ , of course you are right!” he exclaimed and waved his hands exaggeratingly, ”you just admitted to be an elvhen in person, so why wouldn’t you be? You even have the golden eye color yourself I see, which is much better than their former color...”

When the Tevinter mage seemed to have stuck in his chatter, Fen’lath began to laugh.

”Dorian, please”, she cut in, quirking an eyebrow, ”can we at least get inside before you start to interrogate either of us?”

”Aaa... Yes, yes you’re right, I’m sorry, Fela. I’m just so relieved that you are yourself again, and I’m so excited!”

                      Fen’Harel cocked his head as he listened to the conversation the two friends engaged themselves in. He had a distinct feeling that what Dorian had just said about being excited had something to do with him. When the flashy mage had joined the Inquisition, he had made it clear from the start that he was ashamed for the part which he believed Tevinter had played in the fall of the elvhen empire. But when they had visited the Well of Sorrows, Abelas had told him that it was just a misconception and Tevinter had been just a mere scavenger. So, what would probably come next was just a natural sequence of all that. The Dread Wolf’s suspicions got confirmed when Dorian turned to him, face shining like a sun.

”You and I have a lot to talk about, my good man”, he told him, ”what is reading about history compared to a long conversation with someone who actually _lived_ it? You will comply, won’t you? 

Fen’Harel nodded as he chuckled.

”It would be my pleasure.”

”Magnificent! And by the way, I _love_ your hair.”

Now it was Fen’lath’s turn to chuckle: the Trickster looked undeniably baffled because he had used to get nothing but jeers concerning his looks when he was still disguised.  

”Ma serannas, ma falon”, he finally said to the Tevinter mage and smiled.

                      None of the three got say anything more as a cheery, though a bit disgruntled, voice travelled fast from the frontlines of the crowd that hadn’t dared to come any closer.

”Hey, Sparkles!” Varric called out to Dorian, ”instead of being greedy like a Carta loan shark, would you share them with us too? We have a hero to greet!”

”Of course, my dwarven friend!” the mage replied and glanced at him before turning back to the lovers, ”it seems we must go now as the others seem to get rather impatient. Vulgar, don’t you think?”

”Utterly”, Fen’lath vouched playfully for the statement as Fen’Harel gazed her, smirking.

”I knew you would agree”, Dorian cheered, but then added more seriously, ”come, let the others have their fun too, and besides, I have news regarding the three fellows who attacked you by the passage.”

 

Both of the lovers nodded, but Fen’Harel was the one to feel satisfaction. Perhaps Dorian had found out who had hired those three bunglers. They had paid for their mistake as their bodies now lied on the cold ground, covered in snow, but their master was still out there. When a spy was sent to collect knowledge, there was something that interested the hirer, but when he sent _three_ of them, it was a matter of great importance. And whatever it was, Fen’Harel was keen on knowing it.    

 

***

 

After navigating through a sea of countless greetings, congratulations, handshakes, and even hugs, Fen’Harel and Fen’lath had gotten to got the main hall where Josephine had immediately announced that there was to be a grand feast in the evening in order to celebrate the Inquisition’s success and its two heroes: its leader and the vanquisher of Corypheus. Although there was much to be done in order to make feast lavish and time was scarce, the ambassador got to work immediately and shooed the lovers away to get ready because ”the heroes of the day ought to look like ones.”

                      Before following Fen’lath to her quarters to wash up and get ready, Fen’Harel left the orb in her care while he stopped by in his quarters to retrieve his backpack in which he carried one of his most cherished possessions. It had been hidden from daylight for far too long as it happened to be something he had worn during the times of Arlathan. The outfit had endured the time he had slept in uthenera due to a spell that protected it, and now he could wear it again instead of the simple woolen clothes of Solas the apostate.

_Hopefully they are fine enough for the oncoming festivities_ ¸ Fen’Harel though with a wicked look on his face as he hoisted his backpack to his left shoulder.

 

Oh, who was he kidding? _Anything_ made in Arlathan would be fit for any kind of party.

 

***

 

On his way to the Inquisitor’s quarters, Fen’Harel ran into Deshanna Istimaethoriel. He still wasn’t quite sure how old the hanal’ghilan was as he hadn’t had a chance to discuss the matter with Fen’lath. It didn’t matter what the answer in itself was, but it would give him a hint of how long did the hanal’ghilanis generally live. How long would his vhenan...

”Andaran Atish’an, Tishan”, Deshanna greeted him with a small bow, ”I congratulate you on your victory.”

”Ma serannas, keeper”, Fen’Harel said as he nodded and folded his hands behind his back without letting the backpack fall from his shoulder.

”I’m sure that my granddaughter is more than happy for your safe return, as am I”, the old elf continued, ”what you did has made even the most skeptical members of Clan Lavellan to wonder if the dalish legends concerning you are entirely true.”

Fen’Harel raised his eyebrows slightly.

_So, even the most stubborn ones could be persuaded with right actions sometimes._

And he should know it better than most.  

”I’m glad to hear it”, he admitted, retaining his calm demeanor though a rather primal need and longing for his vhenan started to burn within him.

The keeper smiled to him.

”I know that my dear Fen’lath coudn’t be in better hands than those of yours, Tishan. She is special even among us. She doesn’t need the tea anymore, but she needs guiding with her wolf”, she explained, ”would you guide her, Tishan?”

Fen’Harel wasn’t entirely sure what she meant, but he had a suspicion, and with that, he nodded in agreement.

_So that strange tea of hers had something to do with her being a hanal’ghilan? Interesting._

”I will, keeper”, he promised though impatience started to surface in his words, ”infact, I was going to see her before I ran into you.”

Deshanna smiled to him again, understanding his urgency to go his vhenan.

”Then I shan’t keep you waiting. Dareth Shiral, Tishan.”

”Dareth Shiral.”

 

_Finally._

 

**_Elvish translations for this chapter:_ **

_itha ma vegara Tua mir vhenan numal numin’nehn:_  to see you return makes my heart cry tears of joy


	13. As my personal thanks...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please note that this chapter contains mild nsfw.

When Fen’Harel reached the last door before the Inquisitor’s quarters, he silently slipped through, closed the door, and made sure that it was locked. Then he turned towards the last steps of stairs with a mischievous grin on his lips.

_Now it’s just the two of us, ma’lath._

The Trickster took a peek over the railing as soon as he was able to. He didn’t even catch a glimpse of his vhenan, but what he heard told him exactly where she was and what she was doing. As Fen’harel ascended the stairs and laid his backpack on the edge of the bed, he got a glimpse of long red wisps of hair that stood out from the small openings in the folding screen at the back of the room. Silent splashes of water were the only sounds to be heard as he drew closer to the folding screen and stopped when he stood by it, folding his arms across his chest and smirking. He found his vhenan sitting in a lavishly ornate tub filled with water. Whether aware of his arrival or not, Fen’lath grabbed calmly a bunch of her hair and squeezed excess water out of it. Then she let it hang over the edge of the tub and reached for a bottle of scented caring oil. She poured it on the top of her head and, after putting the bottle down to the table, started spread it all over her hair. The Dread Wolf drank the sight in with his golden eyes. The grace of her moves, her beautiful hair, her smooth clear skin...

_Ir'ina'lan'ehn._

Though captivated by the sight infront of him, Fen’harel knew that time was of the essence at the moment. He should wash away the grimes of battle, get dressed properly, and...

”I see that you chose to start without me, ma lath”, he noted, acting a little surprised as if he had just arrived where he stood.

Fen’lath turned her slightly towards him, still carefully applying the oil to her hair.

”So the Dread Wolf is in for silent observation?” she teased him, stating that she had been aware of his presence in the room.

”It’s the nature of a predator”, Fen’Harel told her, ”learn to be silent and wary or lose your prey and starve.”

Fen’lath chuckeled.  A habit learned from him, perhaps?

”You know that I’m not a quarry, ma solas’fen.”

”Perhaps you’re not”, he flashed her a mischievous grin as he took assertive steps towards the tub, ”but you’re something I desire, so to me, you’re the most delicious prey there can ever be.”

When Fen’Harel stood right behind Fen’lath, she didn’t gaze up at him directly, but he could feel her curious gaze burning his skin from time to time. He placed his hands on her shoulders and stared at the hazy figure of her body through the steamy water. She closed her eyes when he leaned in to smell the oil in her hair. Fen’Harel drew in the scent of almond mixed with a few drops of fresh honey and let his hands drop sensually to Fen’lath’s arms, making her gasp. He crouched as he brought his lips near to her right ear.

”Would you like me to join you, ma Ina’lan’ehn’ghi’myelan?” he whispered.

The Dread Wolf noticed that his words made his vhenan shiver.

”Ma nuvenin, Fen’Harel, Tishan.”   

Leaving a trail of dusty clothes in his wake, the Dread Wolf joined his vhenan in the tub. The water was pleasantly warm and it was lightly infused with healing elfroot. Fen’Harel took a comfortable position, spreading his legs unabashed, letting his dreadlocks hang over the edge of the tub, and placing his arms on it. There was a wicked gleam in his golden eyes as he stared Fen’lath who sat right opposite to him. His gaze spoke of love and affection **,** but mostly it spoke of pure _lust_ **.** Fen’Harel could see the same gleam in the eyes of his vhenan, only a bit more mischievous than his. He watched her lips curve into a grin as she teased him with her every move. The Dread Wolf didn’t let his rather calm demeanor change, though something growing under the water betrayed his arousal to her. It seemed that Fen’lath was about to take action as she made a move towards him, but suddenly changed her mind and pressed her back against the smooth wall of the tub. Fen’Harel gazed her with anticipation.

_What are you up to, ma ghi’myelan?_

The god of rebellion had always known his vhenan to be a tease, but this time she had really decided to test his limits, it seemed. It wasn’t a bad thing, though, as he enjoyed the show immensily. Fen’lath harnessed every means she could muster to brake his impish yet serene bearing. Fen’Harel watched as she raised her arms to rest on the edges of the tub, mimicking his posture. Then she leaned into a better position so she could lift her right leg to casually hang over the edge, letting water drops run along her leg and then drop onto the floor. And there she was, right infront of his eyes, presenting herself to him like a gift. Although Fen’Harel had seen her completely nude already in the Fade, but now... The water drops caressing her skin and making it glisten, her breasts displayed so that her perk nipples were just above the waterline, her fire red, silky, scented hair, and her gorgeous eyes in their newly-gained golden splendour... It was too much. Fen’lath gazed her beloved as he was already sinking into the deep sea that was his desire for her.

”Something wrong, ma lath?” she asked him, provoking him with a wicked grin, ”you said that I was the most delicious prey you could ever find.”

Fen’Harel inhaled deeply, his chest heaving and his member twiching, but still he managed a smirk.

”So I did, ma sa’lath”, he replied, rising himself a little so that he could reach towards his vhenan, ”and I shall catch you.”

 

_...ma asha’venuralas..._

The lovers were like a couple of teenagers losing themselves to their hormones. They had been together for a couple of times already, yes, but not like this. So much as Fen’Harel appreaciated and even loved the Fade, he wanted to make love to Fen’lath right here, in this world that was still a bit strange to him but real nonetheless. As he fucked her against the edge of the tub, leaving trails of magic where his fingers touched her, they both got lost to the sensation that was the ecstasy of their joining. They didn’t hear the knock on the door, or the voice that called to the Inquisitor. The world wasn’t on the brink of destruction anymore, the Orb was reclaimed, and the Inquisition and the festivities could wait. For the moment, there could be only them, and as deep sighs and moans of the two lovers’ filled the quarters, the world seemed to disappear into the flames of their passion and burn with their hearts.

 

***

 

Before the festivities of the night could truly begin, Josephine had insisted that everything should be done properly. When Fen’Harel and Fen’lath had finished bathing, if one could call it such, there had been a persistent knock on the door. Opening the lock and seeing who it was, the Inquisitor seemed to have called doom upon both of them as the ambassador had stormed into her quarters like a whirlwind of energy. Fen’Harel had barely had time to get his trousers on before she had ascended the stairs with Fen’lath trying to keep in pace with her. And after a while, from what the lovers gathered from Josephine’s speech, the festivies would be more grand than expected. 

 

And to be truly honest, Fen’Harel was eager to see what the evening had in store for him and his vhenan.

 

**Elvish translations for this chapter:**

_Ir'ina'lan'ehn:_ gorgeous

_Ina’lah’ehn’ghi’myelan_ : my beautiful huntress

_Ma nuvenin, Fen’Harel, Tishan:_ As you wish, Fen’Harel, my lord


	14. The feast

As the evening came, Skyhold was a beacon of light amidst the ever-darkening dusk. There were ornate lanterns everywhere alongside the walls of the historical fortress. Fen’Harel let his gaze wander as those little lights enchanted him. It nearly made him feel as if he was back in the times of Elvhenan again.

”Arla”, a silent whisper escaped his lips.

It made Fen’lath squeeze his hand.

”Ma solas’fen”, she began her question, her voice soft and calming, ”are you alright?”

As Fen’Harel turned to look at her, he saw a face that could make him melt anytime. Though Fen’lath’s face was filled with worry, it didn’t hide the features he so adored. He brushed her cheek with his free hand and gave her a sad smile.

”I’m alright”, he assured her, ”everything just feels so... familiar.”

Fen’lath furrowed as she gazed at him questioningly.

”What do you mean?”

”What would I give to see Arlathan again and show it to you”, Fen’Harel answered and gazed wistfully to the sky, ”the towers, the palaces... The crystals shining among the trees! Ma Arla’Ina’lah’ehn...”

”Things change and are lost”, Fen’lath turned his head gently towards herself again and smiled encouragingly, ”but sometimes they come back.”

Her words made him return her smile warmly, though he shook his head while doing so.

”In this case I really doubt that, vhenan. Even here, where once stood a place of knowledge, my stronghold, is now covered by human architecture with only pieces left of its former glory.”

”Your stronghold?” Fen’lath got curious immediately, ”what did it look like?”

The Dread Wolf chuckled and squeezed her hand that he still held in his own.

”I will tell you when we have more time ma sa’lath. Besides, for all its beauty, the whole Elvhenan was rotten with graft and corruption”, he said and raised her hand to his lips to press a kiss to its back, ”and in this changed world I realise that I’ve found something more beautiful that I could never have back then.”

His words made the two golden eyes light up again like suns.

”Ar lath ma, ma solas’fen”, the words escaped Fen’lath’s lips, making the Dread Wolf’s face brighten and soften at the same time, and he coudn’t resist placing a kiss on her lips in the most gentle manner.

”Ar lath ma, ma Ina’lah’ehn’ghi’myelan”, he said to her before kissing her again.

She smiled and pressed her free palm to his lips as he was ready to lose himself into yet another kiss.

”We should go, ma lath”, she reminded him, ”the others are waiting.”

He returned her smile and kissed her palm instead. And however much it may have agitated him, he complied.

”You’re right. We shouldn’t keep the others waiting.”

                      The lovers ascended the stairs to enter Skyhold’s rather small foyer, and before they even reached the main hall, everything fell silent as if they were the king and queen entering their own throne room. Ironically to the observation, Fen’Harel held Fen’lath’s hand royally high as they walked towards the dais on which there were now two high-backed benches instead of one. As the pair continued their walk past a large crowd who stood by the green carpet they walked on, the Dread Wolf eyed the onlookers with curiosity. Despite that they had already been greeted with joy after the last battle against Corypheus, everyone still honored them in one way or the other. Iron Bull raised his pint to them with the rest of the Chargers while Cullen, Cassandra, and other soldiers pressed their palms on their chests over their hearts... On the other hand, Vivienne and Dorian... Their faces were just _priceless_ as they stood there agape and eyes wide. Both of them had made jokes about ”Solas’” modest clothing and appearance, but now they just couldn’t believe their eyes when they saw Fen’Harel. Noticing that, the Trickster smirked at them as impishly as he could. Maybe Arlathan’s fashion was too much for them to comprehend.

                      Fen’Harel wore a long, dark, moss green shirt that had loose sleeves which tightened considerably at the cuffs. The shirt’s fabric resembled the modern royal sea silk greatly, its v-shaped neckline was held in shape with golden cord, and it had ten inches long slits on the hem on both sides. Fen’Harel had fitted the shirt to his waist with a wide dark brown leather belt that had golden rivets on it and its golden buckle was made to look like a wolf’s head. His trousers, on the other hand, were very slim-fit and though the leather used in them looked very much similar to the one in armor of dalish warriors with its colouring and shine, it was much finer and emroidered. And of course Fen’Harel wore his favourite foot wrappings which were black and tied around his legs with a very dark brown cord – the same he had imagined himself to wear in the Fade when he was there with Numin’gra. In addition to all that, he wore his necklace made out of wolf’s jawbone and the part of the skull of the very same wolf on his forehead.

                      Infact, Fen’Harel remembered well the day he had encountered that old white wolf and honored its death by choosing to transform into a great white wolf of his own. He had felt its yearning for a death by combat and granted its wish. When he had brought its body to his palace in Arlathan, artisans had made a pelt of it to cover his throne and a skull crown for him to wear, but he had requested them to leave the jawbone before starting to make every kind of essentials – arrows and things like that - out of what was left of the old wolf’s body. While Fen’Harel knew back then that he would never literally be old and he was rather cocky and mischievous by nature, he had hoped that carrying the memory of that particular old wolf with him could teach him to be wiser someday - though he was ready to admit that it had most certainly not removed the flaws he had. But what would the Trickster be if not... a trickster?

 

And when the lovers were ready to be seated to the benches placed on the dais, the Dread Wolf grinned to himself, both for the memory and the truth that, to this very day, he wasn’t sure if he had learned a thing about being wiser.

  

As the feast progressed, the main hall was full of scents when more plates filled abundantly with food were placed on the long tables. The wine was flowing from the caskets placed near the door to the kitchen and cellars so that they could be refilled quickly. But most of all, the hall was rich with sounds as every single member of the Inquisition had gathered there to celebrate the achieved victory over the self-proclaimed god and his Venatori. Once again, Fen’Harel got to prove that what he had said to Fen’lath about feasts in general while at Halamshiral was so very true even here: the Inquisition as itself – power, the Nightingale’s spies alert as always – intrigue, the fear for whether the defeat of the Venatori would bring unexpected consequences or not – danger. And the Dread Wolf could swear that although the night was still young, Bull had already found himself a red head, namely the waitress who worked at Herald’s Rest, and there were several other blooming romances to be seen as well – _definately sex_.

                      When a soft hand touched Fen’Harel’s scarred left cheek, he let his gaze wander slowly from its delicate lines along the arm covered with thin leaf green fabric of an elegant dress and up to the lovely features of his vhenan’s face. Unlike many other women, she wore no make-up. Even in the times of Arlathan, when magic was everywhere to be felt, elvhen women had been vain enough to paint their faces with kohl and other natural substances to achieve the ultimate beauty – or so they had claimed. When other men fell for their charms, Fen’Harel had scoffed at their foolishness. He had chosen women on other standards, meaning ones that were beneficial to him based on what he had desired. Fen’lath, whose gentle touch he now felt on his cheek, was different from them in every way. She was natural, knowledgeable, and extremely witty.

”Do those scars hurt?” she aptly asked himright then, ”I could heal those for you.”

_And caring,_ Fen’Harel added silently with a smile.

”They don’t, ma lath”, he told her, ”I chose to keep them.”

”Why?”

The Dread Wolf took her hand that rested on his cheek in his own for reassurance.

”To remember who I am and where I belong.”

Fen’lath cocked her head in question but then, apparently, chose not to speak and pressed a kiss on his lips instead.

”I know that this is still strange to you”, she sympathized, ”but I’m here for you always, ma solas’fen.”

A sudden wave of sadness and uncertainty washed over Fen’Harel, but he didn’t let it show.

”You are everything to me”, he told her with a deep serious voice, staring straight into her eyes as he spoke, ”I meant what I said to you in the Fade – that I will wither and then perish without you.”

Fen’lath smiled to him affectionately, but instead of returning it **,** he buried his face more tightly to her palm and closed his eyes.

”I nearly destroyed everything in my own foolishness. If I would have opened the orb myself, everything we have... the whole world would be gone. _I_ was the one to give the orb to Corypheus, thus causing the deaths of many, and I deserve to be punished for it.”

                      Silence descended upon the table like an ominous shadow. Fen’Harel felt a clench in his heart after his confession. He hadn’t told his vhenan the entire truth about the orb, but seeing her compassion for him, he just coudn’t keep it to himself any longer. He was very familiar with guilt so he could bear it, but he feared for the worst to happen and _that_ was something that...

_*sigh*_

_If you wish so, ma lath,_ Fen’Harel thought, _I shall leave and never bother you again. But what I do not know is whether I survive it or not as leaving you again would slowly kill me for sure._

                      For a while it felt like the dais was excluded from everything else as all the hustle and bustle surrounding it was only a buzz in the Dread Wolf’s ears. He didn’t dare to open his eyes in fear of seeing Fen’lath’s expression. What else would she be now than shocked? Fen’Harel still felt the same painful clench of fear in his heart and it didn’t fade away even when his vhenan placed her hand on his other cheek as well. It made him open his eyes though, and instead of the shock he had feared to discover, he saw a serious face – not frightened, not disgusted... just serious.

”Does anyone else know about this?” Fen’lath asked him while locking her gaze to his.

”Some of the Inquisition spies at Haven may have heard me when I protected them from Corypheus and his demons”, Fen’Harel answered, staring her adamantly, his heart beating wildly while waiting for her next words.

Fen’lath’s expression didn’t change much, though he could have sworn to see a small smile hiding in the corner of her mouth.

”Good”, she stated, ”we should also keep it that way. If any accusations arise, we shall deal with them then.”

The Dread Wolf’s golden eyes moved quickly to and fro and were full of disbelief.

_Ma lath..._ he though but was unable to form words.

”I understand why you were going to do it”, Fen’lath continued, ”if I had done something with good intentions but found out later that it hadn’t actually helped the way intended... I would have tried to make things right again, just like you.”

”But what I did...” he tried to cut in, but she didn’t let him.

”...was because you deemed it necessary”, she finished his sentence for him, ”but you didn’t do it. You’re here now and I’m here with you.”

Fen’Harel swallowed as his breathing grew heavy and tears glimmered in his eyes. When was the last time he had felt this way - or had he ever even done so?

”I’m ashamed to think what I have done to you and everyone else here, but yet here you are, saying that I’m forgiven.”

Fen’lath quickly moved her right hand to place a finger on his lips, preventing him to speak more.

”Shh, ma lath”, she calmed him, ”if it eases your burden, we can discuss this another time.”

A smile crept across Fen’Harel lips while he gazed at her tenderly **.**

”Ma nuvenin, ma Vhenan”, he said and kissed her palm that was pressed to his left cheek while holding it with affection.

She beamed at him before stealing a kiss from him like a shy teenager.

”Should we ease some other burdens as well?” she whispered to him.

Her playful suggestion made Fen’Harel smirk and chuckle at the same time.

”You’re insatiable, ma ghi’myelan.”

                      As the lovers continued their shameless whispering, it started to take rather passionate turn when Fen’Harel’s right hand wandered restlessly up Fen’lath’s thigh.

”You’re so beautiful”, he told her with his lips brushing her ear.

And right when he was about to send a magical pulse to her very core, his attemps suffered a loud interference. 

”Whoa, hold your horses, my dear fellow!”

Both of the lovers flinched as if wakened from a trance **.**

_What the...?_  the Dread Wolf wondered as he started to gaze a round, catching a glimpse of one particularly familiar mage who seemed to have a tendency for cutting off others’ romantical advances, _ugh._

”Dorian”, Fen’lath greeted her best friend as she cleared her throat and turned to face him as if nothing had happened.

Fen’Harel, on the other hand, felt an inresistable urge to cover his face in frustration and groan.

”Sorry for interfering, dove”, the Tevinter mage apologized to Fen’lath, ”but I have urgent knews for your lover here.”

Fen’Harel raised his eyebrows in surprise but realised soon what the mage’s sudden intervention was all about. He stood up and stepped away from the bench to walk to Fen’lath’s right side.

”I will be back soon, ma lath”, he told her and placed a light kiss on her forehead.

Then he turned to Dorian who motioned towards the corner beside the door to the Inquisitor’s quarters. Thought a bit irritated for the interruption. the Dread Wolf was eager to hear the news he was going to receive.

                      The noise in the main hall had prevented anyone else from hearing the conversation between the two mages. Though it might have been important for some members of the organisation, such as Leliana, to hear what information Dorian had gathered so far, for now it should stay just between them so they could decide to whom to go to next.

”So what you’re saying is that this magister Calabrius who formerly supported Corypheus has gathered others with him and started to act on his own?” Fen’Harel summarized the news, his brow furrowing.

”Exactly”, Dorian confirmed, ”he went rogue after the destruction of Adamant and has spied on the Inquisition and several nations ever since.”

_Another magister mad for power? Do they have a fetish or something, I wonder?_  

”If his other agents are as qualified as the ones we encountered, I doubt that he has received much information so far”, Fen’Harel pondered.

”Perhaps they were not expecting to run into an elven god, my friend.”

Fen’Harel let out a small chuckle.

”Words of truth, my friend. Anything else?”

”Well”, Dorian began with a sigh, ”it seems that our new friend Calabrius intends to begin with beheading every leader in Thedas, including Fela.”

                      With that sentence heard, the rings in Fen’Harel’s hair clinked faintly against each other as he turned his head instinctively towards Fen’lath. She was chatting with Varric, both of them laughing happily, unknowing of the new danger.

_Vhenan._

Fen’Harel furrowed as he turned to face Dorian again.

”Do you think that, if there are any Venatori still alive, they will join Calabrius?” he asked for his friend’s opinion.

”Considering that the patrol led by Vivienne and Cassandra didn’t find any trace of the Venatori save for the bodies you left behind, it it possible”, the mage nodded, ”though I rather doubt it.”

”Because they hold a grudge for him for betraying their original cause?”   

 ”For example, but it remains to be seen if I’m right or not.”

”That it does. What’s important now is that we protect Fen’lath from his possible attempts.”

”I quite agree”, Dorian said while he made a move to go and mingle with the others again, ”inform her of that, will you?”

”I shall.”

 

When Fen’Harel walked towards the dais to return to his seat, he felt immensily worried. Again his vhenan was the target of some maniac who had decided to pursue world domination. But there was a bright side to all this. As Fen’lath had said herself, he was still here with her **–** to love her and keep her safe. In addition, there was much to be done for the sake of elves, and now that he had gotten his orb back, he could indeed do something for them with the help of his vhenan without destroying the world that existed now. Whatever the future might hold in store for the lovers, one thing was already certain: although it sounded like it could have been said rather by Varric than Fen’Harel, he would _kick every ass of every damned bastard_ that would try to hurt Fen’lath from this day to the very eternity. 

 

***

 

_Juleanathan i myathan na ove min’sal’shiral, i su uth’then’era_

 

**Elvish translations for this chapter:**

_Arla_ : home

_Ma Arla’Ina’lah’ehn_ : my beautiful home

_Juleanathan i myathan na ove min’sal’shiral, i su uth’then’era:_ I shall worship and and praise you through this life, and into uth’then’era

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this. :) This is the very first fan fic I have ever written, and I am amazed how many kudos' and hits it already has. 
> 
> Spoiler: a new fic with Fen'Harel is already on the way along with another fic with Fenris. :) 
> 
> Thank you again! ^^


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